


Part of Your World

by Blueismybusiness



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, The Little Mermaid AU, lots and lots and lots of angst, unreliable posting schedule
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-28
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2019-07-18 12:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16118630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blueismybusiness/pseuds/Blueismybusiness
Summary: Two boys from different worlds struggle to overcome family obligation and the meddling of a vengeful sea witch in order to find their happily ever after.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! *waves enthusiastically*
> 
> I got this idea several months ago and let it stew for a bit. I got really excited, but since I was already bogged down with several other wips I hesitated in investing any time to write it. However, as ideas have a tendency to do, I couldn't shake this one. I decided off the bat that if I was going to write it, then I would invest all my effort into writing something well planned and thought out. I refused to rush and try to post as quickly as possible, setting a goal of Tsuki's birthday as my official posting date, and well, here we are. 
> 
> I would like to thank stacysmash and crackpairingprincess for beta reading and encouragement. 
> 
> Anyway, prepare yourselves, because this is pure fluff and angst, and when I say angst...I'm going to make them struggle. 
> 
> I make no apologies.
> 
> (Edited for grammar and errors)

The dense fauna traps the wet heat, drenching Kei in moments. It isn’t rain that leaves everything glistening with a sheen of moisture, this is just the normal ecology of the tropics in summer. It’s cloying and makes the air almost too thick to breathe in, but the beauty of the jungle overwhelms nearly all of Kei’s discomfort, leaving behind breathtaking awe.

“Kei! Kei, don’t wander too far, alright?!”

Kei turns his head toward the sound of his mother’s voice, the beach they have commandeered for the next few weeks is lost behind the overgrowth of thick vines and tree trunks.

“Okay!” He hollers back, too caught up in the spirit of adventure to pay too much mind to his mother’s warning. His head swivels to and fro, his eyes darting around almost too swiftly to take in the sight before him. He is merely yards from the white sandy beach, but he might as well have stepped into another world.

The ethereal songs of exotic birds painted in colors he can’t name echo through the canopy as they glide from one branch to another, their wings beating the air and ruffling leaves so green they could put the rarest emeralds to shame. Lemurs pounce around the upper branches among their larger cousins, eating and grooming, some sleeping, while others...do things that make a ten-year-old Kei blush. Big eyed monkey babies peer curiously at him from the safety of their mother’s arms, and he gazes back, just as inquisitive.

Kei catches movement from the corner of his eye only to see a large python slithering through the dense foliage on the hunt for food. He gingerly steps to the side and hopes he doesn’t end up on the menu. He pushes through some tightly packed ferns heading further in, unable to stop his feet from carrying him farther away from shore. It’s only mid-morning, though you wouldn’t be able to tell with the oppressive heat that bears down on him. 

He breaks through some more underbrush and stumbles upon a mossy clearing surrounded by trees with trunks so wide, he’s sure even Akiteru can’t wrap his long arms around them. Blood red flowers with large petals and yellow stamen cluster in groups, growing from tree trunks and vines or clinging to stone, and saturating the air with a spicy scent. The sun filters through the canopy, dappling the floor with pockets of sunlight, and the clearing is almost magical in its seclusion. Kei wonders if he’s the first human to set foot in such a sacred spot. He thinks he could live happily in the clearing for the rest of his life.

He circles slowly, trying to absorb as much of the wonder as he can. He reaches the far end of the glade when he hears a faint sound. It’s odd, like singing, and out of place on a small island that should be inhabited by no one but his family.

Intrigued by the mystery sound, he cocks an ear, listening harder as he steps back into the jungle. He tries to make his way as quietly as possible, straining to listen so the sound can guide his way, but it’s only intermittent. He stops at one point, holding his breath when he doesn’t hear the soft sound again for what feels like a hundred years. Then he hears something new.

It’s laughter, or more like giggling. It’s high pitched, young, and sounds like a dozen bells ringing at once. It’s the most wondrous thing Kei has ever heard, and he wants to know what kind of person can make a sound like that. He shoves his way past branches and thorns, the giggling continuing, providing the music that calls Kei closer. 

It’s near, now, when it stops and the singing starts back up. Now that Kei is almost to the source, he can pick out the tune. It’s nothing he’s ever heard before, but that may be because the one singing it is as tone deaf as a cat that got its tail slammed in a door. Kei would know, too; his cat, Blue, made that exact sound when Kei accidentally shut her tail in the car door. 

Yowling cats aside, Kei can’t help but wonder how a child ends up in the middle of the jungle on an unmapped island thought to be empty of people? 

He silently brushes aside the last of the vegetation separating him from this newest discovery and tentatively steps into a lagoon. 

On the far end, to his right, is a cascading waterfall he never even heard until he saw it. The flow of water pouring over the slate rock is gentle and soothing, and it drains into a large pond at its base, the water so clear Kei can see the bottom as if he’s looking through a window. Aquatic plants sway lazily in the gentle undercurrent, glistening against the sun in greens, and purples, and reds, and blues. Fish dart between the silky, waving leaves, or hide in the many nooks and crannies of the shelves of slate rock that seem to grow like underwater cliffs. Other aquatica busy themselves beneath the surface, hunting for food or making their homes. Kei’s pretty sure he even spies a platypus at some point.

Tearing his eyes from the wonder of that undisturbed underwater world, he takes in the other sights before him. Willow-like trees cluster along the water's edge, long vines brushing the water like gentle kisses. Flowers Kei could never hope to name bloom everywhere, casting their scents into the damp air and filling it with spice and sweetness. Large stones rest in all the best places as if dropped by the gods themselves, if only to give travelers a place to sit and contemplate the majesty of this secret paradise. 

Despite the fact the air is cooler here, Kei can’t breathe, he’s too small to process the grandeur of his surroundings, and his heart aches for the beauty of this small piece of earth. He steps forward, in awe, and a twig snaps beneath his sneaker.

Across the pond a leopard is lapping at the cool water, his head rises and his large, topaz cat eyes gaze intently at Kei before losing interest and slinking back into the jungle, disappearing like a ghost.

However, Kei never notices the jungle cat only yards away from him. His eyes are locked onto a large plateau of rock jutting from the water in the middle of the large pond. 

The moment the wood splintered beneath his foot, he hears a gasp. His eyes snap to the source of the sound just in time to see someone dive into the water. But that isn’t the most surprising thing, even if by all accounts, he should be alone in this place. No, Kei is almost certain he caught a glimpse of a  _ fish tail _ .

Unsure what to think of all of this, he stares at the rock, trying to see the person who disappeared behind it. He steps to the side, craning his neck to get a better look and sees pale fingers slide along its slick surface before disappearing in the shadows. A sea turtle swims nearby, lazily cutting through the crystal waters, snacking on various vegetation and whatnot.

Kei doesn’t know what to do. He thinks he should probably leave, but he really wants to know who or what is out there. Hesitant, he creeps closer to the edge of the water.

“Um...hello?” He calls out, barely above a whisper. It’s as if the jungle itself holds its breath as he awaits a reply. When one isn’t forthcoming, he tries again, but a little louder.

“Hel-Hello, is someone there?”

No answer. Kei is beginning to think he imagined the whole thing. It’s not like it would be that unreasonable, he dumbly left camp without a water bottle, not intending to head so far inland.

Frustrated and a bit disappointed, Kei pushes up his glasses and turns to leave. He feels a little silly standing around and talking to the air, and he’s beginning to get a little hungry.

He only makes it a few feet before he hears a tentative voice beckoning him with a lilting tone.

“You’re really tall.”

Kei stops, one foot in front of the other. He peers over his shoulder and his breath hitches. Though shadowed by the lee of the stone, a pair of eyes peer out at him. Kei turns slowly, not wanting to startle the person obviously afraid of him, and feeling wary himself.

“Why won’t you come out?” He asks instead of acknowledging the person’s comment because he gets confrontational when anxious. His heart thumps against his rib cage, and he sweats more from nervousness than the heat. He pushes his glasses up his face, the sweat and humidity causing them to slip again. 

The person is quiet for a moment, the silence loud where both of them are hidden away from the rest of the world. Kei begins to wonder if he’d hallucinated the voice.

“I have been taught to fear humans,” the person finally, softly, replies. The voice is young, and they don’t sound afraid, only cautious.

Kei exhales slowly as he tries to remain calm. He rolls this information around in his young brain. The person spoke as if they weren’t human themselves, an impossibility. But if they weren’t, then what were they? An image of a tail flashes through his mind. He mentally shakes his head.

“Why would you be afraid of humans?” Kei indulges, curious to see where this conversation is heading, despite his apprehension. 

“Because your kind hunts mine.” The answer is neutral in tone, as if they were only repeating what they had been told, and not entirely sure they believe it.

Kei tilts his head, bewildered by the thought that anyone would hunt people. Yet, whoever is out there separated themselves from humanity. Are they still a person if they aren’t human? And if they aren’t human, then what exactly are they?

“How can I hunt you if I don’t even know what you are?” Kei is proud of his logic, a little more of the tension melting from him the longer he engages...whoever this is. He stares back at the eyes watching him, smug and daring the other to refute his really well thought out argument.

The eyes duck back behind the cover of the stone, and Kei thinks he may have been too harsh. He’s wants to apologize (because his mother has told him that some people have to be handled with a delicate hand, so he has to be more aware of how he approaches people. He doesn’t really understand, intelligence is nothing to fear, but Kei doesn’t want the person to go away without revealing themselves).

Instead, the voice floats up over the water, it’s anxious yet challenging, “You promise you won’t try to eat me?”

Kei scoffs, offended by the assumption. Kei is  _ not  _ a cannibal. 

“Of course, dummy. Why would I want to eat you?” Kei rolls his eyes and sighs in exasperation. He really wishes they would hurry up so he could leave. It’s almost lunch time, and he’s hungry and hot.

“Okay,” they agree quietly. 

There is a splash of water, and anything Kei may have said after dies in his throat when the  _ person _ comes round the stone and out into full sunlight. Skinny arms cling to the rockface, hoisting a body up the side to perch at the top and stare back at him.

It’s a boy, or so Kei thinks, and he’s no older than Kei is himself. He has long, wild hair the color of the setting sun and eyes so brown they rival the river stones that litter the edge of the water sit beneath long feathery lashes. His face is round and soft, with rosy cheeks, and a pouty mouth. But his most...amazing and unbelievable trait is the tail attached to him. The boy’s upper body is pale, almost translucent, and as familiar as his own—completely human. However, beginning at the waist, where his body should transition to legs, shimmering silver and white scales cling to his flesh. Instead of legs, a long, graceful fish tail swishes back and forth in nervous agitation, catching the light as the sun bounces off iridescent gold, red, and black. The fins are long, like gossamer, and Kei wonders if they’re as diaphanous as they look.

He’s the most beautiful creature Kei has ever seen.

“What are you staring at! Wanna fight?!”

Kei blinks, his vision clearing of the daze the appearance of this stunning and impossible creature— _ merboy _ —created. The merboy glares at him from the rock, his face scrunched in irritation with cheeks puffed out, and his hands raised in front of him defensively. Kei is overcome with giddy laughter. As gorgeous as the merboy is, the face he makes is rather silly, almost ruining this unimaginable moment.

“Who’re you laughing at, idiot!” 

Kei stifles his giggles behind his hands. “You were just making a dumb face,” He answers, his brain to mouth filter ceasing to work at this time.

The merboy looks completely offended, his eyes going wide and his face turning red with anger. “My face isn’t dumb, yours is!” 

“Not as dumb as your singing earlier,” Kei shoots back with a smirk, lowering his hands. He doesn’t know why, but he’s enjoying riling him up.

The merboy growls, and before Kei can do anything more than blink, he’s pelted square in the forehead with something semi-sharp and hard. 

“OW!” He shouts, rubbing the sore area the object made contact with and staring at the spot the projectile has landed. He was hit in the face with a pebble and he didn’t even seen the boy throw it. 

“That’s what you get for making fun of me,” the merboy yells back petulantly, pouting from the rock he sat upon.

Fondness overrides any irritation at the pain the merboy has caused because he’s so cute. Kei’s too young to understand the fluttery feeling he gets watching the merboy grumble at him from the middle of the pond, but he suppresses the urge to smile at him. What fun would it be if the knew Kei wanted to be his friend?

“You should learn to take a joke,” Kei teases instead. 

The merboy’s expression relaxes and he flushes a light pink. “So my singing wasn’t terrible?” The smile that brightens his face is shy, and he ducks his head, gazing back at Kei from beneath those long lashes.

Kei’s breath catches in his lungs, his own face heating up. He wants to retort with something sarcastic, but words are getting stuck in his throat. So he turns his face away to hide his embarrassment, shoving his glasses up his face, and hoping the boy can’t see the flush of his skin.

“What’s your name?”

Kei looks back to find he’s being watched with an intensity that has him shivering in the hot sun. 

“Kei Tsukishima,” he answers, suddenly feeling shy himself. Kei nibbles on his bottom lip as he watches the expression on the merboy’s face brighten until it’s almost blinding.

“Firefly!” He squeals and giggles. Kei knows his face is burning now, but it’s not from anger. Watching him is like watching heaven open its gates; his laughter is so pure and heartfelt, and lacking any mockery.

“Wh-what’s your’s?” Kei stutters when the merboy has calmed down, feeling embarrassed that he could be so flustered in front of him. Kei feels so plain in comparison.

For a moment Kei doesn’t think he’s going to receive an answer. The merboy seems lost in thought, then he brightens.

“I guess in your language, my name is Shōyō…?” He ponders this briefly before nodding as if coming to a conclusion. Kei opens his mouth to ask if he’s being honest, but Shōyō answers his question before the words come out.

“Sometimes it’s hard to translate into human language.” Shōyō says this as if it’s common knowledge that their languages could differ so much. Still, Kei thinks the name fits him well. Shōyō is a lot like his name implies—sunshine.

Kei doesn’t miss the comment made about language, and curious, he asks, “How many languages do you speak?” 

Shōyō looks at him as if he’s grown two heads, “All of them, of course.” There’s no smugness or conceit in his tone, only certain knowledge. Kei doesn’t know what to say to that, and he’s bit bemused because, well, that’s a whole lot of languages. 

“How is that even possible?” It’s not, as far as Kei knows. Is it possible to be multilingual? Yes, plenty of people are. He speaks two languages himself. But,  _ all _ of them? No way.

Shōyō shrugs like it’s no big deal to claim to speak every language known to man. Kei decides to test him out.

“Pouvez-vous vraiment parler n'importe quelle langue?”  _ (Can you really speak any language?) _

“Pourquoi je te mentirais?” _ (Why would I lie to you?) _

Kei tries to hide his shock. Shōyō replies with perfect pronunciation, even better than Kei who’s grown up speaking French almost as much as his native tongue. He wants to test Shōyō further, but French is the only other language he knows thanks to family.

“Do you like rocks?”

The random question jars Kei back to the present, yet he can’t quite keep up with the sudden topic change, so he just stares at the merboy with a blank expression. 

“What?” He asks, his tone vapid.

Shōyō rolls his big eyes, “Rocks, dummy, do you like them?”

The question slowly settles in Kei’s mind as Shōyō watches with expectation. Finally he answers, “I...guess?” He isn’t sure why it’s suddenly important whether or not he likes rocks.

Shōyō beams a smile in his direction, bright and blinding. Kei vaguely thinks  _ pretty _ as Shōyō gathers what Kei presumes are rocks littered about the surface of the boulder, his small hands scrabbling to hold them all.

A moment later, the merboy tumbles backwards into the water, sending Kei into a instant panic attack. He’s darting forward, arm outstretched and a shout on his lips, before he remembers Shōyō can probably swim better than he can.

As if to confirm this, seconds later, Shōyō breaks the water’s surface, his head popping up like an ice cube in a glass. He makes his way surprisingly quick to the embankment, tossing the rocks ahead of him and following with strong arms as he hauls himself across the sand and dirt.

Kei stumbles back a step or two, caught off guard by the strange half-human’s sudden proximity. Up close Kei is struck by a sense of wonder. It occurs to him now he is face-to-face with a living, breathing cryptid, and realization hits him like a slap in the face, stealing his breath away. 

Shōyō, army crawls toward him, and up close his skin is like porcelain, smooth and blemish free. He has a set of gills on his ribs, closed now that he’s on land, and the oddity if seeing flesh split like that by design doesn’t take away from his overwhelming beauty. His orange-red hair dries quickly in the sun, springing to life like flame, and looks like spun silk. His mouth works in an unintentional pout as he concentrates on inching closer to Kei, pink tongue peeking between even pinker lips while he grips his possessions. But it’s the tail that leaves Kei in awe and wonder. This close he can see the details of the scales, how the myriad of nacreous colors blend seamlessly, hundreds of thousands overlapping and giving way to fibrous layers of fins. It’s reminiscent of those Betta fish you buy in the pet store, but on a much _ much  _ grander scale. Pale silver catches the sunlight with every flick and swish, and Kei finds he kinda wants to run his fingers over them.

Jewel brown eyes blink up at him; big, and round, and curious. They waver back and forth, observing Kei in much the same way Kei observes Shōyō. He grins when his eyes meet Kei’s, and Kei catches a glimpse of pearly, pointed teeth.

They’re mere feet apart now, and this close Kei notices there is no fish-like smell accompanying Shōyō. Instead, he smells faintly of salt and summertime. Kei finds he sort of likes it. 

Shōyō stretches out an arm, dropping a small pile of stones at Kei’s feet. His fingers are slightly webbed. Huh.

Kei turns his focus to the treasure set before him, and treasure it is indeed. He may be young, but he’s a bit of a nerd. He loves all things science, especially dinosaurs, but his interests in the field is widely varied. His eyebrows raise and he slowly sinks into a crouch. 

Scattered about the ground in front of him are several gemstones; jade, tiger’s eye, and turquoise, to name a few.

“Pretty, aren’t they? I found them all by myself,” the pride in Shōyō’s voice is blatant.

Kei glances at him over thick-rimmed glasses before setting his eyes back on the precious gems. He plucks one from the pile, scrutinizing it a bit closer. 

“You can have them. I can always get more.”

Kei balks, resting his bewildered gaze on the half-human boy in front of him. Shōyō’s other hand darts out, and he unceremoniously dumps another handful on the ground. He smiles up at Kei.

Kei doesn’t quite know what to do. There are several hundred, if not thousands, of dollars strewn around his feet. Should he even mention the carelessness with which Shōyō handles a fortune? Do mermaids even need money?

In the end, Kei settles for the truth.

“Thank you, but I can’t take these. They’re worth a lot of money.”

Shōyō blink at him and tilts his head. “Money?”

Just as Kei thought. “Um…” he presses forward, committed to his actions, “These are considered precious. Humans trade...other precious items for them?” He ends his explanation in a question, unsure if Shōyō will understand. It takes a moment, but clarity seems to catch him.

“Oh! Well, they’re nothing but pretty rocks to me so you can take them if you want.”

Kei’s at a loss, but Shōyō offered them so there couldn’t be any harm in accepting. He allows his eyes to roll over the treasure, trying not to be greedy. He settles for a jade piece, a tiger’s eye, and a citrine.

Giggling draws his attention back to Shōyō.

“That one matches your hair,” Shōyō teases, pointing at the bright yellow gemstone, his lighthearted tone lacking any sort of mocking. Kei flushes, looking away.

“Kei!”

His head snaps around toward the tree line, and Kei shoots to his feet. That’s his mother’s voice.

“Kei, honey, where are you?!”

Her tone is worried, he was going to be in trouble.

“I have to go,” Kei tells Shōyō without looking back, his eyes locked on the line of trees protecting him and this strange creature for the moment.

“Oh,” the disappointment is heavy in Shōyō’s voice, and Kei glances down at him. The sadness in those brown eyes swirl up guilt in his chest, though Kei has no clue why he should feel that way.

“It’s my mother, I should get back,” he explains, keeping his voice gentle.

Shōyō perks up at that, “Your mother?! Can I meet her?”

Kei almost grins at Shōyō sudden change in demeanor. Everything about this extraordinary being is enchanting. Still, as much as Kei would like to indulge him, he doesn’t think introducing more humans to a legendary creature as particularly smart.

He shakes his head as his mother’s voice calls out again, sounding nearer and more desperate. “I don’t think that would be a good idea,” he adds.

Shōyō’s face falls. He doesn’t ask for a further explanation, and Kei turns to leave.

“Will you come back?” The question is hesitant, bringing Kei to a stop.

Kei looks over his shoulder. Shōyō’s expression says he’s nervous, but his eyes shine with hope. Kei is astounded that Shōyō wants to see him again. Yet, he’s also grateful. He really wants to see him again, too.

Kei grins. “Yeah,” he answers, then he turns and darts into the jungle.

 

**-8-**

 

He keeps his promise and returns to the lagoon the following morning. Kei returns the day after that, too. And the day after that, and so on until he is spending everyday with Shōyō in the hidden pool. At dawn he pesters his brother to ferry him to shore, barely taking time for breakfast or making sure he has a lunch and fresh water. Family and staff alike question his excitement with gentle teasing and concern, but he distracts them all with little half truths. Kei is still wary of complete honesty. If Shōyō has been taught to fear humans, then it’s probably for a good reason.

Also, Kei enjoys having this secret to himself. It makes him feel important, like he’s protecting something precious.

He learns all sorts of things from the merboy. Everything from pieces of mermaid history, to marine life from the perspective of someone who lives within it. Kei has never believed in magic before, not as science-minded as he’s always been. Things have changed, somewhat, since meeting a literal magical creature.

In return, Kei shares what he knows of the human world. Shōyō seems especially interested in the technology, much to Kei’s misfortune and the detriment of his expensive handheld console. However, Shōyō had looked too contrite and cute to scold, so Kei let it slide.

Even though he’d be lectured on responsibility, it’s not as if he can’t buy a new one.

Most days, however, are spent exploring the pool of water. Kei was by far a poor swimmer compared to Shōyō, but the merboy was patient and made sure to stay close to the surface. 

During these times, Kei meets the platypus he spied his first day in the lagoon, he learns to catch fish bare-handed, and he learns the reason for Shōyō’s sharp teeth. It is a disgusting and almost traumatizing experience, and Shōyō looks at him in confusion when he isn’t joined in his meal.

“Humans cook their food unless it is prepared raw for a reason,” he explains while trying not to gag. Fluid and blood burst over Shōyō tiny hands as his teeth tear into the flesh of a perch he managed to catch.

“Cook?” The merboy asks, his head tilted in a way that makes Kei think, ‘Lucifer Dogfish’.

Kei stifles a grin at the more apt description of the half-boy then replies, “Yes, we apply heat. Fire. To our food.”

Shōyō blinks at him, his expression clearly saying he does not understand. Kei sighs, “Nevermind.”

Shōyō shrugs, content to let go of information he had no way to observe. Even if Kei wanted to, he wasn’t sure he could start a fire. Not with how wet everything is. It isn’t like him anyway to do something to impress a another person.

It’s in this way that Kei’s days pass—swimming, playing, and learning about one another.

“Why do you wear that skin over your legs?” 

Kei looks down at his lower extremities wondering what ‘skin’ Shōyō could be speaking of. It takes him entirely too long to understand that Shōyō is asking about his swim trunks. He laughs.

“What’s so funny,” Shōyō asks, sulky.

Kei wipes away a tear and digs his feet into the sand just beneath the cool water, enjoying the feel of it squishing between his toes. He’s sitting on the bank, Shōyō resting on his belly next to him, his beautiful tail lazily splashing water and sending heavy droplets out over the surface of the pond. Glancing down at his new friend Kei can’t help but grin as he answers, “They’re not ‘skin’. These are called swim trunks.”

“Swim...trunks…” Shōyō replies, tasting the word to see if he likes it. He obviously doesn’t, the head shake and crinkled nose giving him away. He still looks confused when he asks again, “But why do you wear them?”

“Because humans don’t go around naked,” Kei states, drawing his knees closer to him and wrapping his arms around them, resting his cheek on one knee as he watches Shōyō.

“Naked?” He repeats and looks up at Kei, squinting in the sunlight. Kei’s pulse jumps.

“Y-yeah, it’s when all your private bits are exposed.”

“Private bits…” Shōyō replies, his eyes cloud over as he processes this information. Seconds later his tail slaps the water as he goes rigid, his expression morphing into concern. Kei jumps, startled by the loud noise in the quiet of the lagoon.

“Am  _ I  _ naked?!”

Kei stares at him. He’s never really thought about it before but he supposes Shōyō is naturally in the buff since he has no need for clothing. Kei’s face heats up in embarrassment when the realization hits him. He turns his head to keep at bay the new curiosity to  _ look _ and he coughs to cover up his embarrassment. 

“Yeah, but that’s natural for you,” he says, proud of himself for not betraying his nervousness and shame.

“But it’s not for you?” Shōyō’s questions are so innocent, full of genuine curiosity. It is impossible to keep from grinning, affection blossoming in his chest, like one of the red and yellow Glorious lilies dotting the shore. 

Kei bites his bottom lip, refusing to let his feelings show on his face. “No,” he he mumbles, “It’s not.”

“Oh,” Shōyō’s voice sounds far away and Kei twists his head to look down at the merboy just as he suddenly shouts, “Can I touch?!”

Kei pauses mid turn, staring with wide, unbelievable eyes. “Hah?!”

Shōyō eyes his trunks hungrily, “Your swim trunks, I want to touch them,” he blinks up at Kei, his eyes softening to caution, “I mean, if it’s okay…?”

Kei breathes out, the exhalation a little shaky. Of course Shōyō only wanted to touch his shorts. Kei is a little mortified that he had thought anything else. “Uh...sure,” He answers.

Shōyō’s face lights up, excitement flushing his cheeks. Kei snorts. How can someone be so enthusiastic about touching swim trunks of all things?

Tentatively, Shōyō reaches out a hand, his fingers barely brushing the material of the loose, Hawaiian print shorts. He snaps his hand back as if afraid they might bite, and rubs his thumb over his fingers as if the feel of them has stained the tips. Figuring it was safe, he reaches out again, gripping the cloth with more confidence.

“Huh,” He says. 

Kei watches the whole thing with fascination, more captivated by Shōyō’s expressive face than by his actual exploration. “What does ‘huh’ mean?”

Shōyō answers without looking at him, as if it’s an afterthought, “It feels fake.”

Kei chuckles, “That’s because it is, idiot.” He lightly flicks the merboy on the head, and Shōyō grimaces, still not looking at him.

Kei freezes a second later when Shōyō’s fingers brush his leg, hesitating and feather soft. Shōyō’s eyes dart up to him, the light behind them asking if he was doing something wrong. Kei’s muscles are locked, he’s unable to make any movement, positive or negative.

Shōyō must take this as an affirmative because, and much like his experiment with the shorts, his fingers get braver as he explores the flesh of Kei’s pale and freckled leg. The action isn’t by any means sexual, it’s only the curiosity of someone discovering something new.

Still, the touch of Shōyō fingers send sparks over Kei’s leg, goosebumps breaking out all over his skin. Shōyō’s fingers are softer than he imagined, warm and strong. Kei closes his eyes, losing himself in the slide of fingers over his thigh, then his knee, then ankle, and last his foot, where Shōyō gingerly touches each toe. Kei would giggle if he wasn’t having trouble breathing.

“You’re so much like me, and yet, so different,” Shōyō states in quiet awe. He eventually pulls his hand back and Kei’s skin burns with the memory imprinted on his skin. When he finally opens his eyes, it’s to see Shōyō watching him with a soft, fond smile curling his lips, his face flushed rosy.

Kei suddenly wants to know if Shōyō’s lips are as soft as his fingers.

Instead, he lets his legs fall away from his chest so he can tuck them beneath him. Shōyō isn’t the only one curious about the other.

“Can I...can I touch you?” Kei sounds way more confident than he feels.

Shōyō’s brown eyes widen until they’re pools of warm caramel, and he starts to flush hard from the bridge of his nose, to his ears, and down his neck and chest. He looks away, shy, then nods his head.

Now it’s Kei’s turn to reach out. His blood sounds like a waterfall, rushing his ears like thunder. The ambient noise of the lagoon fades away until Kei barely notices it. Shōyō rolls until he’s reclined on his hands, watching Kei intently, the flush of his skin lightens until he looks more like soft, rose colored china, but not nearly as fragile. Kei likes it.

The first touch of Shōyō’s scales startles Kei, which doesn’t make sense to him, but he supposes he knows what Shōyō was feeling moments ago. Shōyō’s breath hitches, drawing Kei’s honey colored eyes to him. The merboy exhales slow and long.

With purpose, Kei refocuses and splays his rather large hand along the scales that begin just below the Shōyō’s belly button. He huffs out a laugh at the thought that this boy has something so mundane as part of his anatomy. 

As Kei trails his hand along the shimmering, iridescent scales, he’s amazed by the feel of them. Unlike most aquatic life, Shōyō’s scales are not slimy. Their smooth, the multitudes layering closely together until they create a seamlessness that almost feels like skin. He’s cool to the touch, and firm, like strong muscle. Kei feels it when Shōyō flicks his tail, the muscle beneath flexing and rippling. 

He glances back at Shōyō and finds him with his eyes closed, his breathing ragged, and his fingers digging into the sand. It occurs to Kei that he might be touching Shōyō inappropriately and he pulls his hand away disappointed.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, his voice dropping low with remorse.

Shōyō’s eyes snap open, pinning Kei like a dart to a cork board. Even though he’s blushing, he smiles, “It’s...it’s okay. It’s just no one has ever touched me like...that.”

All the blood in Kei’s body rushes to his face. He feels like he’s melting from embarrassment. His stomach feels funny also, warm and tight. He’s never felt this way toward anyone, and he wishes he understood it. It makes him nervous and scared, but also excited and full of energy. He wants to hide under a rock and cover his face, but he also wants to run from one end of the lagoon to the other, or dive into the water and swim down toward the bottom as far as he can until his lungs burn from lack of oxygen. 

But, like any typical ten-year-old, Kei ruffles his own hair and growls, covering his feelings in mock irritation. “You’re so corny!” He huffs. “You can’t just say stuff like that!” He glares at Shōyō, he knows he blushing, but at his point he doesn’t care.

“What’d I say?!” Shōyō hollers back at him, pouting. “Geez, Grumpyshima!”

Kei rolls his eyes, “Shut up, Shrimp.”

Shōyō gasps, “I am  _ not _ !”

Kei barely has time to brace himself before a heavy fishboy lands on his chest, arms deceptively strong wrestling against his. He loses, despite the excess height he has on Shōyō.

He’s now pinned beneath said merboy, the bright sun haloing him, making his already flame red hair seem alive. His face is shadowed, but Kei can feel those brown pools seeing through him, into his deepest thoughts, and it makes him shiver to be so bare before another living being. Shōyō leans down until his face comes into view, passing out of the shadow and into clarity, until their noses are brushing and they are sharing panting breaths. Kei’s brain at once screams  _ too close  _ and  _ not close enough. _

“I am  _ not  _ a shrimp,” Shōyō growls into his face, his sharp teeth bared like he might take a bite out of Kei.

Kei swallows hard, his tongue like sandpaper inside his mouth. He hears the rough slap of water as Shōyō beats the water with his tail in agitation.

Shōyō slowly backs off of him, releasing Kei and leaving a void where his solid presence once hovered. When Kei is finally able to move, he eases up until he’s on his feet. He dusts himself off as calm and cool as he can.

Truth be told he’s frustrated and perplexed that this strange and ridiculous creature can have such an effect on him. He goes to straighten his glasses out of habit but stops before poking himself in the eye. He’d forgot he left them on a rock near the tree line, along with a shirt and his socks and tennis shoes.

Kei, by nature, is not incredibly confrontational. He prefers more...passive aggressive techniques, such as instigation. Doesn’t mean he won’t press buttons just to watch someone snap, especially when provoked. And right now he’s feeling especially provoked.

He doesn’t like feeling so out of sorts with himself, and Shōyō has a way of throwing his equilibrium off. He’s kind of an idiot, but can be insightful without meaning to. He’s endearing and irritating at the same time. He’s more competitive than Kei, but gets Kei so worked up at times he can’t stop himself from being drawn into his competitive spirit. Secretly, Kei doesn’t like to lose but will cut his losses if he feels it’s a battle he can’t win. 

This time, however, between getting so flustered beneath Shōyō, and pinned like a baby deer beneath a cougar, he’s feeling excessively impertinent. 

“Are you a little sensitive...Shrimp?” Kei stands to his full height and gives Shōyō a condescending look right down the slope of his nose.

Shōyō bristles at the taunt, a visible shudder racking his body. “I’m warning you Kei Tsukishima!” His voice drops an octave, low and guttural. Kei stiffens in order to stop his own shudder that threatens to wrack his body. It doesn’t, however, stop him from goading the merboy.

“... _ Shrimp _ …”

The air around them stills, their small world holding its breath as they stare each other down.

Colorful birds fill the sky in a noise of flapping wings and frightened cries when the silence is broken by a strangled war cry.

Kei should be humiliated by the squeal that overtakes him as he jumps and takes off down the shore and away from Shōyō, his joyful, cackling laughs echoing behind him. Shōyō chases him for a moment, shouting that he’s cheating, before diving into the water and racing next to Kei, his own bubbly laughter flowing up to fill the atmosphere when he breaks the surface of the still water with dazzling jumps that fling rainbow colored water in all directions.

 

**-8-**

 

After the afternoon when the two boys shared intimate touches in curiosity, things begin to change within their relationship. They grew bolder with their fingers and hands, reaching out to each other often. Maybe it has to do with their dwindling time together, maybe it is just a desire to be near the other, to reassure themselves of the other’s presence. It’s most likely a mixture of the two.

It starts with clasped hands beneath the water, or the touch of an arm or shoulder to gain the other’s attention. Eventually the touches begin to linger and caress, helping hands stop letting go.

Then, on their last evening, Kei postpones his return to his family as long as he can. He and Shōyō sit closely together on an outcropping of rock near the waterfall. The grey slate they sit on is roomy enough, but they press against each other; shoulder to shoulder, thigh to...fishtail. Both recline back on their hands, Kei’s right brushing against Shōyō left, pinkies intertwined.  A thunderstorm the night before increased the flow of water, creating the effect of a loud shower, so they sit and watch the spray create rainbows in the late afternoon air. 

Shōyō flicks his tail back and forth, cutting through the many droplets of water. Kei watches, mesmerized by the sunlight catching the soft silver-white fin and making it sparkle like it was made of crushed diamonds. There is an unusually tense silence between them, and Kei expects it has to do with the fact he’s leaving soon.

They haven’t talked about it; about what it means for him to leave. Neither one has brought it up out of fear and the desire to preserve the dream that they can stay like this forever.

How the hell did the weeks pass by so fast?

“Will you forget about me?”

Shōyō is the bravest of them, the whispered words as loud as a shout, shattering the illusion like a rock to a window. As long as it remains unspoken, it seems as if Kei’s leaving is a lie. 

Kei turns to him, and as serious as a boy-child can, he replies, “Never.”

Shōyō nods. He sits up, pulling his hands away from Kei and into his lap, his tail drooping. Kei watches him fidget nervously for a moment before looking up at his profile. A tear slips down Shōyō’s cheek, and he tilts his head to put himself in Shōyō’s line of sight.

“Hey,” He coos, soft and gentle, wiping at the tear with his thumb, “Don’t cry, Shō. It will be fine.”

“How though?!” He cries out, meeting Kei’s eyes with liquid brown ones full of sadness, “You’re leaving, and I’m scared I will never see you again. I don’t want to lose you.”

Kei stops breathing. Literally. He inhales and doesn’t exhale. His heart pounds like it plans to beat its way through his chest, and it’s not because he’s not breathing. Kei has a revelation; a profound realization for someone as young as he is. The weeks he’s spent in play with this amazing creature laughing and fighting, the closeness, has left an unidentifiable emotion growing in Kei—roots planted deep by small hands, and watered with tinkling laughter and eyes that shine so bright they put the sun to shame.

Kei loves Shōyō. He loves him fiercely and with his whole being, and while he won’t know what that means for a long time, he understands that it is no small matter. That somehow, loving this magical being will change his life forever.

“I love you.” 

It pops out of Kei like popcorn in hot oil, expected and unexpected. The moment the words hit the air, Kei wants to die. He wants to drown himself in the clear water only feet beneath the rock he lounges on. 

Shōyō stares at him, his big eyes even bigger. He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, and Kei starts to feel the heat of embarrassment kick in.

“Um...I mean...you don’t…” he stutters, but finds himself interrupted when thin arms wrap around his neck to gather him in a tight hug, and bell-like giggling ringing in his ear. He freezes only for a second before he snakes his arms around the slender waist, reveling in the opportunity to hold Shōyō close.

“I love you too,” Shōyō whispers in his ear. Kei breathes. He breathes for the first time in his life, his world coming together in way he didn’t know he was missing, and he melts into Shōyō’s arms wishing he could stay forever.

When they finally part, they continue to hold hands between them, giggling in shared felicity, pure and as bright as the sun and moon. Foreheads touch as they breath in each other’s air.

“How can I find you again?” Kei asks, hungry for any information on how to locate Shōyō at some point. 

Shōyō smiles brightly, his expression aglow with the joy he feels that is a mirror of Kei’s own light heart. “I will find you.”

In all their time together, in all Kei learned about Shōyō and his people, Shōyō never shared the location of his home. It never bothered Kei, he understood, but now he was impatient.

“You can tell me you know,” he pouts, closing his eyes and enjoying the feel of Shōyō so close to him.

Shōyō chuckles, “It would be impossible to access for any human. Not without help.”

Kei looks back at him, confused. “Oh.” He lets it go. It would probably be easier for Shōyō anyhow. He seems to have more freedom than Kei, despite his family's status.

“We should wed.” Shōyō offers the statement with so much sincerity that Kei balks.

“What? Now?” He leans back, dumbfounded by the sudden proposal. They’re so _ young _ .

“What? No, dummy!” Shōyō retorts, laughing at Kei’s outburst.

When he calms he gazes back at Kei with so much tenderness it makes Kei’s chest tighten and his skin warm. “When I reach adulthood, I will be expected to take a mate.”

Kei thinks about his proposition and asks, “When will that be?”

Shōyō releases one of Kei’s hands to scratch his cheek as he considers the question, and Kei represses the urge to snatch it back. He doesn’t have to because Shōyō soon returns it, intertwining their fingers. Kei sighs, blissful.

“I suppose,” Shōyō begins, obviously mentally calculating.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Kei teases, earning himself a light slap on the shoulder and a glare. He grins back.

“Well, I’m not sure how humans track time,” he finally says.

“We count by years,” Kei offers helpfully, “Three hundred and sixty-five day and night cycles equal one year.”

Shōyō looks baffled for a moment, obviously struggling with the math.  “How old are you?” He questions. He’s apparently beginning to put the information together.

“I’m ten years old,” Kei answers with pride. He’s sure he’s older than Shōyō, and that makes him smug.

“Oh...” Shōyō says with a little hesitance, and Kei doesn’t understand.

“How old are you?” He asks, genuinely curious now.

“Um...60…if my numbers are correct?”

Kei splutters. How is that even possible?!

“We’re really long lived,” Shōyō meekly adds.

Oh.

“Well,” Kei hesitates to ask what adulthood looks like, “At what age do mermaids become adults?”

“Well, it’s not  _ exactly  _ adult, more like...a coming of age type thing. In...eight years, I think, I will be of age.”

Eight years. That’s a lifetime to Kei.

“I will find you then and take you as my mate,” Shōyō says this so matter-of-fact that Kei burns with second-hand embarrassment. 

“Oh my god,” he cries out, covering his face.

“Now what did I say this time?” Shōyō demands, his tone disgruntled. Kei just shakes his head.

Well, eight years was better than ten or twenty with the age gap between them. It will be hard, but not impossible.

“You promise?” He confirms, looking at his future husband...wife...the logistics will come later. “You promise  _ you  _ won't forget  _ me _ ?”

Shōyō roughly shakes his head, “I could never do that.” 

Kei smiles, a touch shy and more happy, and he has a sudden idea. “Okay, let's make a pact,” he announces.

“Pact?” Shōyō answers, tilting his head in a way that makes Kei’s inside squeeze.

“Yeah, it’s like a forever promise. You can’t break it or something bad could happen.” Kei doesn’t know if that’s true or not, but whatever. A little extra emphasis never hurt anyone. He holds out his pinky and looks at Shōyō expectantly.

Shōyō glances at the proffered digit, then at him, then back at the pinky, obviously unsure what to do.

Kei rolls his eyes and grabs Shōyō’s free hand, bringing the finger to meet his own still standing alone between them. He wraps his pinky around Shōyō’s, gripping tightly as if the strength of his hold will somehow make their promise more sure.

“I promise,” he starts, staring into Shōyō’s eyes, “To never,  _ ever _ forget you. I promise to always love and wait for you until you find me again, and when you do, I promise to become your...m-mate.” Kei flinches at how his voice breaks on that last part.

“That’s the oddest incantation I ever heard,” Shōyō discloses, his nose scrunching in disbelief.

“That’s because it  _ not _ ,” Kei replies. Mermaids can be weird sometimes. “You just have to repeat it.”

“Oh…” Shōyō’s non-answer fades away and he gazes thoughtfully at their conjoined fingers. Just when Kei feels the need to prompt Shōyō, he begins to speak, offering up his own promises.

“I...I will find you one day,” he begins, then pauses while considering his words. His forehead wrinkles a little in concentration, and Kei wants to brush away his worry.

“I _will_ find you,” He repeats, surer this time, “And on that day I will be yours and you will be mine, forever until the end of time.” Shōyō looks up at Kei, meeting his eyes, conviction intensifying the brown and gold of his irises.

Kei is a little shaken by the severity of that gaze, some part of him understanding that the promise they just made was binding. Kei didn’t doubt for a second that Shōyō would do as he said.

After a moment of silence, as they sit still beside the falls, pinkies remaining wrapped around each other, Shōyō whispers, “What now?”

Kei doesn’t know, he’s never made a promise like this before, not one so serious (if you don’t count his dream of creating his own Jurassic Park). He watches as Shōyō’s pink tongue darts out to wet his rosy lips and he suddenly knows what he’d like to do.

He licks his own lips as he catches Shōyō’s gaze, the late afternoon sunlight highlighting the flecks of gold with in the jewel brown of his irises. There is an innocence to the way he watches Kei, an innocence that is beyond Kei, and that is so pure and radiant. Kei’s heart skips around behind his ribcage, and that roller coaster feeling returns times ten. He feels lightheaded and hypersensitive.

Kei leans in, feeling insecure, but his desire to feel Shōyō against his lips overwhelms any hesitation. Shōyō stiffens, his eyes wide as he watches Kei close the distance between them. Kei watches him back, fascinated by every little reaction and scared he could possibly be overstepping human/mermaid boundaries. However, Shōyō doesn’t jerk away in fright or disgust. Instead, a quiet gasp reaches Kei’s ears, and the soft in-rush of air tickles his nose. The kiss is a barely-there press of lips, but it’s enough to cause an explosion of butterflies within Kei, the fluttery feeling reaching down to his toes and fingertips. Shōyō sighs and closes his eyes, and Kei swallows the breath. 

He feels he could die like this and ever regret a moment.

Shōyō pulls his pinky from Kei’s, returning it a second later to intertwine their fingers, palm to palm.

“Kei..?!”

The moment between them crumbles, the kiss too short as Akiteru’s voice drifts through the foliage of the jungle, thieving into their small world and stealing their joy. Kei leans back, eyes slowly opening, trying to breath evenly even as his stomach ties itself in knots. Shōyō gazes back at him, eyes shiny and wet with tears that threaten to fall, and Kei feels guilty knowing his leaving is the cause of his pain.

“Kei!”

Kei looks over his shoulder, he’s feeling desperate, angry, and not for the first time, that his age inhibits his independence. If he was a grown up, he’d never leave this island, this lagoon, Shōyō.

“Kei, dammit, where are you?!” 

Akiteru’s voice is irritated and getting closer. Kei needs to leave now or risk being discovered. He turns back to Shōyō who struggles to be brave, though his quivering chin and red nose contradict the determined look in his eyes.

“I have to go,” Kei whispers. His own heart breaks, the reality of his leaving coming down on them full force. It’s unfair, he’s never found anyone quite like Shōyō, never felt the things he feels for him, and he’s only known Shōyō a few weeks but he feels like he’s always known him. Now he has to leave with his family, return to boring studies and a life that suddenly seems dull compared to the burning and bright life that lies behind Shōyō’s eyes. He doesn’t want to leave, he hates it, he wants to demand his family leave him here.

But he’s only a child and he has no authority. 

Not yet.

Kei reaches out to feel Shōyō one last time, curling his fingers against his smooth, soft cheek. Shōyō cups his hand in his own, leaning into the caress, a tear slipping down his cheek.

“Come for me,” Kei says, his voice wobbling slightly with the conviction and emotion of his words. Then he pulls away before Shōyō can answer, quickly shimming down the rock. He darts off along the sandy shore of the lagoon, grabbing his belongings and heading toward the tree line where he heard Akiteru calling for him.

Just before he disappears beneath the densely packed fauna of the jungle, Kei stops and glances behind him for one last look at Shōyō. He sits upon the rock where Kei left him, the setting sun setting him aglow. His hair sways on a light breeze, dancing like fire. His tail flips and swishes the way it does when agitated, the colors blending and shining like jewels against the darkening sunlight. He looks almost divine, a creature too beautiful for this world, meant to have songs written about him. Shadowed by the location of the sun, Kei can’t see his face, though he swears he hears a whisper of words on the air.

His last thought before turning his back on his beloved to be swallowed up by the tightly packed trees of the jungle is that if he had to, he’d wait forever for Shōyō.

  
  


**-8-**

 

Shōyō sits upon the stone and watches Kei disappear from his life, even if only for a short time. 

“You’re father isn’t gonna be happy about this.”

Shōyō ignores the voice of his friend, his eyes never leaving Kei, drinking in every last detail before he loses him to the human world.

Just before the jungle takes him, Kei stops, peering back at him, longing making his gold eyes glow in the sunlight as it creeps ever closer to the horizon to sleep.

Shōyō wants to call out, beg him to stay by his side. He knows it would a futile effort, however. Human rules are different from his people’s; Shōyō has a level of autonomy at his young age that Kei does not. Not that it matters. They have made a pact, and in eight years Shōyō will seek him out and take him as his mate for life. Nothing in this world or the next will come between Shōyō or his intended.   


Not even his father.

“Wait for me,” he whispers into the warm wind that blows through the isolated lagoon.

_ Wait for me _ , he thinks.  _ Wait for me. _

  
  


**-8-**

 

And if the world were a happier place instead of cruel and harsh, Kei might have. If the world were a place where young love could flourish without prejudice, where they could be reunited with those they once loved, then maybe Kei and Shōyō might have had their happy ending.

However, this is reality, and life is not easy, nor do happy endings ever come without a world of pain, as they would come to know.

For when has there ever truly been happily ever after?


	2. Chapter 1: Happy Birthday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kei s quickly approaching adulthood, and with it comes heavy shoulders and painful memories. But hope and love aren't so easily snuffed out, and if you're lucky enough, sometimes rainbows follow storms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *waves*
> 
> Hello, remember me? For those of you actually reading this, thank you. I love this story, and I love writing it. I appreciate everyone of you who have taken the time to read this labor of love and written me such sweet comments. Sorry the update took so long. I have another wip that has been giving me a hard time and I swore that I would switch off updating each story. I finally got the next chapter of that one posted, so here I am. Hopefully the next update for this one won't take as long. It's finished, but it depends on how long it takes me to write the next chapter of the other work. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this. Don't get too comfortable because things will be going downhill fast for these two. But what's a happy ending without heartache along the way, right? At least, that how I feel. Anyway, happy reading.

It’s the screeching of the alarm that rouses Kei, instead of the large, floor-to-ceiling windows in his room that are currently blacked out to keep the morning-bright rays of sunshine from giving him a headache the moment he opens his eyes. Not that the unnaturally loud ringing of his alarm is any better.

Kei groans in annoyance and snakes a hand out from the comfort of his cocoon, blindly searching for the damned clock on his bedside table. His fingers brush a few objects none too gently in their search, scattering a few personal items and knocking the book he’s been reading to the floor with a soft _thwump_. It feels like years before he finally finds his alarm clock and shuts it down. He's too lazy to pull his arm back under the blanket, so he just lays there for the moment, arm stretched uncomfortably across his bed and table, while he allows his brain to boot up.

He will _never_ be a morning person. And it’s especially true this morning.

He groans again, a small sob on its heels, and rolls over onto his back to stare at his ceiling. Well, the blackness that could possibly be his ceiling. It’s so dark in his room he couldn’t see more than a breath before him, even if he were to wear his glasses.

Kei doesn’t want to get up. If it were up to him, he’d stay in bed all day, have strawberry short cake delivered to him via breakfast in bed, and read the day away.

Unfortunately, it isn’t up to him. Today is an important day, or so he’s been reminded for the past several months. To Kei, the day is just the final click of the lock that been placed upon his life, officially shackling him to responsibilities he never asked for nor did he ever want.

Such is life. Bitching about it won’t change the fact that he has obligations to fulfill.

Without further preamble, Kei sits up, tossing back his blankets and swinging his feet over the side of the bed. With only muscle memory built over years to guide him, he slaps the button on the device sitting on the table beside his bed that houses a variety of functions; one such function being to operate the mechanism that blackens or brightens his windows. It’s set to slow so that he isn’t blinded by sudden, glaring sunlight, but he still hisses like a vampire burned by ultraviolet light when his windows completely clear.

Situated on the outskirts of a small, sleepy fishing town on Shikoku Island, the Tsukishima home proudly watches over its residents. His family estate, built to resemble a large, western château and updated over the years, perches atop a cliff on the easternmost tip of Kochi Prefecture.

Kei keeps the master suite, a large bedroom on the topmost level that faces out over the ocean, floor-to-ceiling windows covering more than a third of the slightly rounded room. The view is spectacular, to say the least; the rising sun pouring into his room every morning like liquid gold against a cloudless sapphire sky as soft waves crest and break against a reef below.

Most people would be awed— _inspired_ —by the majestic sight laid out for them. Kei is mostly bored, having seen the same view every morning since he moved into the room. He paid little attention to it as he stood and stretched his long limbs and made his way to his private bathroom.

The chill of the white tile against his feet added to his irritation and he didn’t even bother flipping on the light, the single large window providing enough natural light for him to complete his morning routine. Kei uses the toilet, then turns on the shower, and as the water warms, he strips down, tossing his clothes down the built-in chute that leads to the laundry on the first floor.

The hot water helps to wake him and ease his moodiness, though it won’t fully leave him. Not as the days itinerary runs through his head. Still, he tries to relax as much as possible, allowing the heat and pressure of the water to loosen the knots already forming in his shoulders.

Today, by all accounts, should be a good day. But it isn’t, as far as Kei is concerned.

He takes his time bathing and when done, he climbs out, dries off, and brushes his teeth. He shaves, adds deodorant, and attempts to tame his blonde curls as much as possible.

Done with hygiene, Kei heads toward his closet, opening the double doors and stepping inside to peruse his options for the day’s wear. He slips on a pair of silk boxers, then scans the shelves of slacks, deciding on a pair of light grey, slim fit pants. He rolls on a pair of dark grey dress socks, then his pants follow. He pulls a cotton undershirt from a drawer and slips it over his head, cursing that he’s already forgot he’s fixed his hair. No matter, he will have checked again anyway to make sure nothing was out of place.

Next, he glances over his choices for a button down, choosing a sleek, violet silk and grey tie. Once the shirt and tie are on, Kei chooses his cufflinks and tie clip to match; simple gold. Kei, then, picks out a vest and suit jacket in the same grey as the pants. He hangs the jacket on a hanger stand and puts on the vest, straightening and smoothing his tie in the cheval mirror in his closet. Last, Kei plucks a pair of black, leather chukkas from the shoe rack and slips them on. He adds a plain gold, open-faced Fossil watch with a black leather band and a black leather belt. He takes a violet pocket square, as well.

Kei gives himself a once over in the mirror, and satisfied, he grabs his jacket and walks out of the closet, tossing it to the bed on his way back to the bathroom. He corrects his hair and spritzes himself with cologne, then makes his way back toward his bed to grab his jacket, shrugging it on as he leaves his room behind.

Kei glides down the hall, stopping two doors down. He needlessly smooths the front of his jacket and takes a deep breath. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, it’s not like his parents will care one way or another, still, he closes his eyes and tries to slow his hectic pulse with calming breaths. When he feels more controlled, Kei opens the door and steps inside the room.

One wall has a large picture window that doesn’t catch the morning light, so the room is significantly darker than Kei’s. Still, it’s somehow cozier in here. Kei flips a switch on the wall and several UV lights blink on over the terrarium lining the far wall across from the entrance. Kei barely flicks his eyes in the direction of the exotic flowers growing behind their glass cage.

Instead, he immediately turns to the left and makes his way across the room to the altar against the wall. Built of dark walnut, the large shrine stretches nearly the whole span of the wall. It was incredibly ornate with hand-carved scrollwork detailed with green and white lacquer and gold filigree. Inside, on the main shelf beside the wooden plaques detailing his family name, sits pictures of his late parents. Several lanterns hang from its ceiling and a few offerings lay scattered about below alongside the incense burner. Kei takes a box of matches lying next to the burner and lights the candles on the lowest shelf. He plucks a stick of incense from the holder, lighting it on the candle flame, placing it in the holder, its thick, musky scent quickly filling the room.

On the floor directly before the altar lies a small, green pillow which Kei uses to kneel on. He bows first before his parents, then situates himself in seiza, bowing again, forehead to the floor. He leans back on his heels, and for a long while Kei is quiet, gazing at the photos in the frames, his chest aching even though it’s been many years since his parents passed. Eventually though, as is his morning ritual, Kei begins to speak to his parents.

“Good morning, mom, dad.” The familiar routine brings him a sense of centeredness, a calm he only gets during these moments. Kei doesn’t know if his parents are actually listening—a large part of him knows they’re not—but the act of communicating with them keeps the pain of loss at bay.

“I suppose you know today is my birthday. Eighteen. Officially an adult.” He goes quiet again, momentarily lost in thought and memory. He blinks and shakes himself from the past, breathing slow in order to stave of the constriction in his chest and the tears that would inevitably follow.

“I know you’re counting on me.” Kei continues, chewing the inside of his lip. There is so much he wants to say on the tip of his tongue. He wants to yell and scream how it’s not fair for the burden of the family to fall on his shoulders. How he’s too young, too inexperienced. How he’s afraid. How he feels so alone most days.

But what good would it do when no one was there to actually hear it and empathize? When the truth didn’t matter anyway.

Kei sighs, clearing his throat, blinking back tears pooling in the corners of his eyes. Crying like a baby over how unfair life is isn’t becoming of the soon-to-be President and CEO of Kingdom Tech Group.

Breathing deep, Kei reaches within himself, dragging up his determination. “I won’t let you down,” He tells his parents with more conviction than he feels. “I love you guys.”

Kei bows again then gets to his feet. This is his favorite part of the day; when he can lose himself in something as mundane...normal...as the ritual cleaning. With utmost care, he cleans and polishes the wood of the altar and plaques, the photos, and other odds and ends. When he finishes, he puts away the supplies kept in a hidden closet and turns his attention to the terrarium.

“Hello pretties,” he purrs quietly, opening the doors as he visits each shelf and flower. He takes his time spraying leaves, rearranging pots, and clipping dead or dying leaves and petals with a pair of snips. All the time he hums tunelessly, his mind blessedly blank.

When he finishes and there is nothing left to do, Kei takes one look around the room, making sure everything is in its place. He nods his head at his parents before heading back out into the hallway, closing the door behind him with a quiet click. He doesn’t lock it, no one comes in there. No one would dare.

Kei finally makes his way through the labyrinthine of halls to the dining room where his breakfast is already hot and waiting. He takes a seat at the head of the table, picking up his tea and having a sip, sighs, as the medley of flavors burst on his tongue and the scent of spice rises with the steam.

He’s barely begun to dig into his meal before his steward-turned-assistant walks through the door from the kitchen. The short man makes his way silently through the large dining hall, bright sunlight filtering through the heavy, open drapes that cover the giant windows along one wall and spilling over the large mahogany table. Not for the first time does Kei think the damned room too big for the lack of people. He’d happily eat in the kitchens with the staff if it meant he didn’t have to sit by himself in the empty space. Better yet, he’d eat alone in his room if it was his choice. But he faced opposition each time he brought it up, Takeda telling him that eating with the staff is below his station, and eating alone in his room too eccentric.

Takeda means well, though it didn’t mean Kei didn’t hate it.

Takeda barely glances up from the tablet in his hands, having made the trek through the room multiple times. He stops once he’s standing before Kei and finally looks up, meeting him with a wide, honest smile.

“Good morning, Tsukishima-sama, and may I say, Happy Birthday.” He hands over a bundle of newspapers, including _The Wall Street Journal, Nikkei,_ and _IEEE Software_.

Kei stares at the stack with trepidation burning in his guts and ruining his already small appetite. He has been groomed for years for this moment, taught to read and critique the major financial newspapers of the world, as well as journals pertaining to the— _his_ —company’s products. He’s been handed these newspapers and journals every morning for the last seven years, quizzed and questioned, and this is the first morning his opinion will really count. Talk about pressure.

Sighing in resignation, Kei takes the papers from Takeda, and instead of replying ‘thank you’ for the felicitation, he once again insists his long-time caretaker and friend to call him by his given name.

“Ittesu, _please_ call me Kei. You know I hate it when you use such a formalized way of addressing me.”

Takeda smiles at him indulgently, “Impossible. You are my employer and I will address you with the respect your status requires.”

Kei pouts, frowning down at his uneaten bacon and fingering the corner of one of the newspapers he’d tossed onto the table. “You’re more than that and you know it.”

A hand situates itself atop his shoulder, squeezing in a reassuring way.

“Not anymore,” Takeda answers, a slight give in his voice suggesting that he, too, wasn’t exactly excited about putting this kind of distance between him and his former charge. The hand pulls away leaving a cold void where the warmth of the touch seeped through Kei’s expensive suit.

Before Kei could get too down in his thoughts, Takeda breaks the heavy atmosphere with his characteristic enthusiasm. “Well, no time to dilly dally. We have a full day today before the festivities tonight. We should depart soon or be late meeting with the company lawyer.”

Kei inwardly grimaces but keeps his face carefully composed as he looks up at Takeda. “Yeah, I suppose we should head out.”

Takeda glances down at Kei’s plate and frowns, “You really should eat sir. It will be a while until lunch.”

“I’m not very hungry, I’ll be alright.”

Takeda doesn’t look convinced, but doesn’t push. Kei is now grown, a man ready to take on the obligations left to him by happenstance. He no longer needs a fussy stand-in parent. He doesn’t need the added stress.

Takeda is quiet as Kei stands from the table, tossing down his napkin and picking up the stack of papers, handing them back to Takeda. He’ll peruse them on the ride over to the office.

Buttoning and straightening his suit jacket, Kei brushes past Takeda who follows close on his heels, his shorter legs moving quickly to keep up with the much taller young man.

“I have already had the car pulled around. I received a call this morning from R&D asking about acquisition of the parts ordered. There seems to be some mix up of sorts, the wrong parts delivered or something. You’ll have to take a look since the order was significant. The quarterly reports are in-“

“Takeda,” Kei snaps, irritation settling in behind his eyes. It was barely 8:30 in the morning. “I have not yet signed the paperwork. Allow me the last few moments of my childhood before it’s officially snatched away.”

Kei glares at him from the corner of his eye and almost regrets his words. Takeda’s normally cheery disposition has collapsed, his mouth pulled tight into a thin line and his eyebrows scrunched as hurt hangs over him like a cloud. Kei sighs, he can’t bring himself to feel completely guilty. He’s already on edge and being overwhelmed with work within the first five minutes of his day is as daunting as it is depressing. Still, Kei apologizes. It’s not Takeda’s fault this is his life, and regardless of his anger and frustration, Kei cannot hold him responsible for the circumstances.

“Sorry”, he mumbles.

Takeda briefly glances at him, a small, hesitant smile easing some of the pain in his expression.

“It’s alright, Kei. I understand how big this is.”

Kei feels his chest constrict. He’s suddenly extremely grateful for Takeda.

“However there is one issue we must discuss,” he adds, the moment between them once again being dragged beneath the weight of obligation.

Kei sighs, and resists the urge to roll his eyes. “Shoot,” he commands, but with a gentler tone.

“It’s about tonight and…” Takeda pauses, stopping as they step into the foyer, biting his lip in anxious dread and avoiding direct eye contact.

Kei does roll his eyes then, turning to face his former guardian. “Out with it already!”

Takeda snaps to attention, locking eyes with Kei. “It’s about meeting your fiancé.”

Kei wants to scream. Not _this_ again. He’s already voiced his displeasure at being sold off like some cow. He doesn’t hold back from doing so again.

“I have said it before and I will say it a hundred times more until it’s finally understood. No. Never happening.”

“Tsukishima-sama, I don’t think you understand the importance-“

Kei interrupts for a second time, eyes narrowing and his mouth pulled down into a deep frown. “I don’t think _you_ understand. There’s no way in hell I’m marrying a stranger, male or female. I’m barely into my eighteenth birthday and I’m already expected to take over one of the largest corporations in Japan. Must I really be forced into a relationship?!” Into a marriage without love...without trust. He already feels so alone, why do they compound it by forcing someone on him he doesn’t know? He doesn’t say this, but he pleads with his eyes, unable to contain the fear hidden there.

Takeda just stares, pity and sorrow reflected back at Kei. “I’m sorry, Kei. The requirement for collecting your inheritance stands and is legally binding, whether it is you or your brother. There is nothing I can do.”

Kei knows this. He’s known for years that this would be the outcome, the consequence of the unexpected death of his parents and his brother’s betrayal. It didn’t make it any easier to swallow.

A door on one side of the foyer used exclusively by staff opens and Akaashi, the head housekeeper, steps into the room, wary of the of the atmosphere, though you couldn’t tell by the bland look on his face.

“Is everything alright, Tsukishima-sama?”

He stands just inside the door, as regal as any heir to a fortune regardless of only being staff. His back is ruler straight, hands clasped before him. There is just enough deference in his posture that suggests he knows his station, though without the arrogance that so many in Kei’s society carry like a second skin. Akaashi is a true asset to the Tsukishima household; competent, respectful, and discreet. In a lot of ways, Kei feels he is the lesser standing there. That only irritates him further, already insecure in his own skin, he doesn’t need the reminder he is totally unqualified for the role that’s been hung around his slender shoulders.

Kei straightens up, having at least the advantage of height on Akaashi. He schools his expression, willfully calming the storm inside him, and without a word walks out of the door. His long legs quickly take him down the stairs and up to the car. Bokuto, standing by, reaches to open the door with a boisterous greeting.

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY, TSUKISHIMA-SAMA!” He has a big, goofy grin on his owlish face, two-toned hair in spikes like horns on his head. Kei slides into the car without so much as an acknowledgement of the other’s existence. He curls himself into the far corner of the backseat and fixes his eyes out of the window. He refuses to entertain Takeda on the subject of engagement anymore. He may be forced to marry, but he will no longer embarrass himself with tantrums. However, no one stated he had to be nice about it. Kei would approach this new obstacle as he did everything else—with cold detachment.

****

**-8-**

****

Akaashi looks on as the estate manager gives him a wide, panicked look. Akaashi shows nothing of his opinion on his face, hoping to diffuse the tension pouring off the small, rabbit of a man.

Takeda curtly bows and answers, “Everything is alright Akaashi-san. Or...it will be...hopefully.” Takeda flashes him a half-smile before following Kei out the door, hurrying down the front steps and to the car.

Akaashi sighs, walking to the door and closing it behind his departing employer. He retraces his steps, entering into the hidden staff hallway, inwardly groaning as he notices Tendō leaning against the wall just on the other side as if he’d been there the entire time. He’s out of regulation with his uniform, shirt untucked and tie skewed, and his unnaturally red hair looks like it hasn’t seen a brush in a month. For some reason, his sloppiness doesn’t detract from his subtle attractiveness.

“Can I help you, Tendō?” His tone is neutral and his expression blank, allowing nothing to be drawn or inferred from his behavior. It is not his place to encourage—or in this particular employee’s case, _enable_ , the spread of rumors about his young master.

Tendō is all smiles, as usual, and his eyes glint with mischief, as usual. He carries himself with the appropriate amount of subservience, but anyone who knows him knows he cares very little for formalities and boundaries, playing by his own rules and marching to the beat of his own drum.

“It appears Megane-sama is off to a bad start to his day.” The way he says it sounds as if he takes delight in the distress of the young man. Akaashi allows himself to glare at his underling, green eyes narrowing and unamused. Tendō, much to his credit, pulls a penitent expression, holding up his hands in surrender.

“I mean no offense, boss, don’t fire me for speculating.”

Akaashi sighs again for the upteenth time. “Perhaps you have more important activities to attend to, Tendō, instead of gossiping about Tsukishima-sama.” He isn’t asking and he doesn’t leave any room for protest with his tone.

Tendō either doesn’t notice or ignores Akaashi’s subtle warning to shut his mouth and get back to work.

“All I’m saying is that kid could use a day off to just...be a kid. That’s all.” The sincerity in his expression is a little startling in someone so disingenuine.

“SATORI!”

Neither Akaashi nor Tendō heard the approaching footsteps of the newcomer, and both flinch at the sudden command. Real guilt swims over Tendō’s face and he hunches his shoulders for a brief second before plastering on his most annoying smile and turning to face the person who just yelled his name.

“Semi Semi! I was just looking for you!”

Semi Eita stalks down the hall toward them, his normally placid expression twisted in irritation. Akaashi is by no means a push over, and he holds a significant amount of authority within the Tsukishima household, yet even he is wary of pissing Semi off.

“Yeah yeah, I’m sure you were.” He halts a handspan from Tendō, ignoring him in order to bow respectfully to Akaashi. “Pardon me, Akaashi-san, I hope this slacker was not troubling you.

Tendō affects the most dramatic expression of offense, it’s almost comical. Akaashi bites the inside of his cheek to keep from showing his amusement. Encouraging Tendō is the biggest no-no.

“Semi, I’m hurt. You wound me. I thought we were closer than this.” Tendō’s perpetually red eyes swim with almost believable sorrow.

Semi, always unaffected by Tendō’s antics, straightens with the blankest look anyone could give. Quick as a whip, his hand is on Tendō’s ear, his shorter stature forcing the taller man to bend awkwardly.

“Ow! Ow! Semi Semi, be gentle!” Tendō protests to no avail.

Ignoring Tendō’s cries of pain, he bows again, pulling the still hollering jokester with him, then turns and walks off down the hall, dragging Tendō along. As they disappear around the corner, Akaashi hears Semi scolding his co-worker, “I thought I told you not to pester Akaashi-san?! Ushijima’s been looking for you!”

Akaashi doesn’t hear Tendō’s reply, but he assumes his compliance as Ushijima is usually the only one on staff—apart from Semi—capable of reigning Tendō in. Akaashi shakes his head. Of troublesome staff members go, Tendō was the least of his worries at the moment. Though, oddly, he’d been right in what he said about the boy. Tsukishima-sama did indeed need a break.

Akaashi has been with the estate for seven years, coming on staff after the former head housekeeper retired and the loss of the patriarchs of the family still fresh in everyone’s mind. He was there when the eldest Tsukishima heir up and left his still grieving sibling. He’s been there to watch the poor boy continue to collapse in on himself as the weight of his family’s name bared down upon him.

Akaashi has never had the chance to really get to know Tsukishima Kei, the start of his employment was swallowed beneath the grief and loneliness surrounding the estate. Yet he heard stories, memories shared between staff members who knew well the Tsukishima family and of a happier times; when the large, cold manor was alive with joyful noise and warm smiles. When young Kei skipped through the halls, full of curiosity and wit. He’s seen the pictures that still hang throughout the home of a smiling, blonde child with an equally happy family.

Akaashi has, on occasion, tried to reach out and overcome the wall of grief and resentment the young man has built, albeit tentatively, not wanting to overstep the boundary between employer and employee. Still, the fact is he’s tried, but for some reason unknown to him, Tsukishima shuts him down every time. Of course, he’s not exactly open with many people, especially the staff, as far as Akaashi can tell, but his hesitancy in engaging Akaashi, and sometimes outright avoidance, tells him that Tsukishima is not at all fond of _him_.

Occasionally, it worries him that his placement within the household is in jeopardy. But Takeda-san has assured him, on multiple occasions, that his concerns are unfounded and that Tsukishima is only reacting to him out of fear.

Fear of what, Akaashi has no idea.

But, when all is said and done, none of it is Akaashi’s responsibility. His only charge is to make sure things run smoothly among the staff, and so he does that as best he can, hoping that through these inconsequential actions, Tsukishima-sama might know that he is not alone.

“Akaashi-san.”

Akaashi is startled from his thoughts by Suzumeda, one of the maids in his employ. Akaashi tries not to show his surprise at her sudden appearance. Nor does he want the embarrassment of the fact he was caught daydreaming alone in the empty hallway to be apparent. He clears his throat, pulling himself to his full height and taking on the air of the head of housekeeping that he is.

“I apologize, Susumeda-san, were you looking for me?”

Suzumeda smiles widely at him, making no comments about his current activities. She’s a sweet and capable girl, young and cute. Everyone on staff loves her, and Akaashi can’t help the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“Sorry to bother you sir, but you wanted me to tell you when the caterer arrived.”

Ah, yes. He’d almost forgot that today his duties included  party organizer. Takeda would be busy initiating Tsukishima-sama into his new position, so he had asked Akaashi to oversee the preparations for tonight’s celebration.

He gave the young girl a small smile of appreciation. “Thank you, Suzumeda-san. I will be along shortly.”

She beamed brightly at him, the smiles and praises of her boss few and far between. “No problem, Akaashi-san,” she chirped at him before turning and heading back to her duties.

Akaashi took a deep breath, refusing to admit he was sighing again, and smoothed the invisible wrinkles of his uniform. The state of Tsukishima-sama’s emotional well-being aside, Akaashi’s responsibilities lay in making sure the party tonight went off without a hitch.

If Tsukishima-sama can breathe a little easier because of it, well he would consider it a job well done.

Akaashi strides down the hall, heading in the direction of the kitchens where all non-essential visitors were ushered in, mentally checking off his to-do list, the incident a little while ago forgotten in the face of everything that needed to be done.

****

**-8-**

****

Tsukishima sits by the large windows of the conference room, watching humanity bustling about the sprawling city like so many ants on a hill. He may live in a quiet fisher town, but his work lay an hour away in the nearest metropolitan township.

The ride over had been quiet, small mercies in his otherwise miserable existence. Takeda had let him be as he stared out of the window, not really seeing the browns, and reds, and golds of fall creeping her fingers steadily across the island. Instead he’d been mired in negative thinking, his own private pity-party.

The trip had felt like it passed in a blink, and once at the office, he’d been ushered into the largest conference room on the top floor, seated at the table with a pen shoved into his hand, and a large folder of documents awaiting his signature was pushed under his nose, containing every legal matter that would officially place an entire empire on his slender, shaking shoulders.

To say Kei is a nervous wreck is an understatement, but he considers it a victory that he held his composure through it all. Every contract and clause was explained, and every document was signed in his neat, flowing script, satisfying Takeda and the company lawyer. By noon they are officially finished. Takeda pats him on the shoulder as Kei flexes his aching hand and wrist. Writer's cramp is no joke, but he supposes he ought to get used to it. His job means signing his name on documents for the rest of his natural life—a depressing thought.

“If you would like to take a break, now would be a good time. I know you’re just getting used to this, but business doesn’t wait and the board will be waiting to meet you at two. Go eat and relax. Get to know your new office.”

Takeda smiles warmly at him. It is impossible for Kei to stay mad at his caretaker and friend. He knows his old foster parent has nothing but his best interests at heart. Still, Kei can’t bring himself to smile back. Instead he nods and rises from the high-baked, over stuffed rolling chair his ass has nearly molded to in the hours he’d been sitting in it. As he stands, it occurs to him that he’s been sitting for a long time and hasn’t noticed his need to use the bathroom. Now that no one else demands his attention, he realizes he is in desperate need of the facilities.

“Would you like me to have lunch sent to you?” Takeda asks as he gathers his paperwork and tablet, preparing to head out, no doubt, to work through his lunch. Kei fights back the urge to encourage Takeda to take his own break. He knows his friend would never listen, anyway, he is a workaholic as much as anything else.

“That would be fine,” Kei answers, quiet. Takeda nods at him, then leaves the conference room and leaving Kei to his own devices.

Kei sighs and rubs at his face beneath his glasses, at once happy to be left alone and lonely with nothing to occupy him. It used to be that his days were filled with training and studying. Now that was over, and running a corporation is what will take up his time. Kei supposes he ought to enjoy the quiet while he has a chance before his work becomes his life.

Kei plods out of the conference room and heads in the direction of his father’s, no, his office. This is one of the reasons why his mood is so dark. It was hard enough to come back to the place he spent so much of his young life in as he followed his father around like a curious puppy. It feels like a betrayal to be calling his father’s old office his.

All through his training, Kei wandered in an out of buildings and warehouses as he learned about the company and his role in it. He avoided the company headquarters as much as possible, the memories of his time here still raw after nearly eight years. As for his father’s office, Kei had adamantly refused to enter. He had also refused anyone else to enter.

Kei turns down a corner nearly colliding with a staff member. The person started to reprimand him until his expression melted into fear as he recognized the person he was about to yell at.

“Pardon me, Tsukishima-sama,” The staff member apologizes, quickly gathering dropped papers and running off.

Kei frowned, both irritated at being knocked into and ran from as if he was some tyrant to be feared. Honestly, he does prefer his own company to most anyone’s. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted everyone to walk on eggshells around him.

It was never like that when his father ran things. Despite it being a corporate office, the place always had this...homey feel to it. The decor was modern but not pretentious, painted in jewel tones with hardwood accents and lots of living plants. The white furniture was overstuffed and cozy, and Kei remembers plenty of naps in odd corners. The best thing had been the people who worked within the building; always smiling, laughing, and there was always a buzz of innovation in the air.

It hasn’t been like that in years.

Kei eventually makes it to his office and stops outside the door. He’s not scared to enter so much as he hates that once he steps foot inside, it will no longer be his dad’s office. He takes a deep breath, stealing himself for the inevitable—the unavoidable.

Kei grips the cold metal of the knob and opens the door, September sunlight spilling into the hall, and painting Kei in bright light. The office of the President and CEO, the owner and largest shareholder of the company has a giant corner office. The large space is open and inviting, with double doors that has Kei’s name and title painted on it where his father’s used to be. To the right houses a hidden mini-bar, concealed behind dark wood cabinets. To the right of that is his own private bathroom, complete with shower and small closet for spare suits and linens. Directly across from that, on the opposite wall are six 32” televisions, the latest technology and updated recently as is everything within the company in order to stay current with rapidly improving technology. The televisions serve as mediums for daily updates of financial and technological news, as well as conference calls. Below the televisions are low set bookcases filled with operational manuals, tech specs of current and some old projects, and some legal texts pertaining to technology and business. There are also various nick knacks, some from his brother and him, old gifts for his father for whatever reason children need to spoil their parents.

Across from Kei are large windows that stretch from wall to wall, and from the ceiling to roughly  Kei’s knees. His fathers large executive desk sits to the left, near the windows and the televisions. In the open space before Kei is a grey, leather couch, long enough for Kei to stretch out comfortably and still have a little room left over. There are also overstuffed chairs in cream and light blue, and a coffee table completing the faux living room. The office is painted in cream and grey with light blue accents, and a large, blue area rug covers the floor beneath the sitting area. There are a few plants in here too, making the room as comfortable as everywhere else.

Kei hates it all. As he steps inside he begins to mentally redecorate. Its as if his parents’ ghosts still live here. He can practically hear the laughter between his mother and father as they talk about everything but work, as they proudly watch a young Kei draw at the coffee table, or hear them chastise him and his brother when they roughhoused. It was too much.

Kei swallows back the lump in his throat and shoves down the ache in his chest, heading for the bathroom. He only had to deal with it for today. One word from him and by tomorrow morning it will be as if his family never stepped foot into the office.

Kei ignores the guilt at the relief he knows he’ll feel.

He has barely stepped out of the bathroom when someone enters, the smell of food following them and filling the room with mouthwatering scents of spicy noodles and pork. Kei turns around and all the tension he felt all morning melts away like ice cream left in the sun.

“Tsukki!”

Yamaguchi is carrying his lunch, a giant, goofy smile on his face as he takes in his surroundings. “Oh man, it’s been so long since I was in here!” He turns to Kei, grinning at the memories this office brings up, however, it becomes a little strained as he notices Kei flinch, despite how he tries to hide it. “Ah, sorry Tsukki. This must be hard for you.”

“It is,” Kei answers honestly, “But it's okay. Or it will be, anyhow.” Wanting to change the subject as quick as possible, Kei gestures at the bags Yamaguchi holds in his hand, “Is that lunch?”

Yamaguchi blinks at him before looking down at his hand as if he had forgotten he was even holding the food, “Oh! Yeah! I caught the delivery boy as he got here and offered to bring the food up myself. Thought you could use the company.” Yamaguchi smiles softly at him, and Kei wants to hug him. Yamaguchi knows him so well.

Kei permits himself a small smile in return, “Yeah, thanks.” Kei nods toward the couch and chairs, inviting his friend to join him. “Is there enough for both of us?” He inquires as he chooses to take a seat in one of the chairs. Yamaguchi plops down on the floor opposite him and Kei rolls his eyes. He loves how unpretentious his best friend is.

Yamaguchi’s father runs a subsidiary of Kei’s company, and they met at an exclusive private school when they were in elementary school. Most people mistook Yamaguchi Tadashi for a charity case, his lack of conceit and department store fashion making him a target for bullies and condescension, including Kei who was not immune to snobbish behavior. Despite his haughty attitude, if it hadn’t been for Yamaguchi making the first move toward friendship, Kei would never have learned about this kind and mischievous man who wears off brand clothes because he’s thrifty and would rather spend his money on good books and movies or soggy french fries. Money never mattered to Yamaguchi, and Kei was sure his best friend would have been just as happy to work a low paying labor job as he is following in his father’s footsteps. No matter where his friend ended up, Yamaguchi always sprouted and grew, facing obstacles with the determination to become someone better. Kei really admired him.

Yamaguchi was also loyal to a fault, and always making sure Kei knew he was important for who he was, not because of the name he carried. Kei often wondered why someone as lighthearted and bright would chose to be friends with someone so...him. Not that he would ever say that aloud. He’d learned a long time ago that Yamaguchi wouldn’t stand for Kei to be down on himself or question his own worth. Yamaguchi wholeheartedly believed in Kei’s abilities and competencies, even when Kei doubted himself. In return, Kei trusted Yamaguchi more than any other living soul on the planet.

Yamaguchi makes himself comfortable as he pulls containers of food out of the bag. “I spoke with Takeda-san yesterday and told him I would probably stop by for lunch so I assume he would have planned ahead.” He divides up the meal between the two as he speaks, looking up at Kei only after he has finished. He hands over a set of plastic silverware, smiling at Kei.

Kei takes the flimsy utensils, replying, “You never said anything about coming by.”

Yamaguchi grins even bigger, “I wanted to surprise you.”

“When did you get back?” Yamaguchi has been overseas dealing with some business his father had left him in charge of. It’s nepotism at its finest, but in their world it’s almost expected. It’s not as if Yamaguchi lacks the qualifications. He’s more than capable, and Kei almost envies the ease with which Yamaguchi has taken on more and more responsibility. Though, it probably helps that he still has his parents to help him, but that’s just jealousy and bitterness talking, and Kei would rather be genuinely proud of his friend.

“Yesterday morning. It was a long trip full of too many meetings. The execs at the branch in Barcelona are so…” he curls his hand around the spork he’s holding, the frustrated expression on his face telling Kei all he needs to know.

“Yeah, I completely understand,” Kei validates. Even if it was indirectly while he was still training, he knows exactly what it’s like trying to appease demanding, rich executives with no concept of hard work. Admittedly, Kei doesn’t either, but he likes to think he’s a little less demanding. Yamaguchi would probably disagree.

“I’m glad you made it back on time,” Kei admits, not looking up from his container of food. He can feel Yamaguchi’s smile the same way he feels heat from a fireplace, it’s warm and comforting.

“A thousand hordes of whiny executives couldn’t keep me away, not on such an important occasion.”

Kei glances up at him, a small grin is his response to his friend’s support.

“So how’s the hunt for the future Mr. Tsukishima going?” Yamaguchi inquires as he’s about to take a bite of rice.

Kei’s half smile drops from his face, wrinkling into a grimace. Yamaguchi pauses with the spork nearly at his mouth and frowns back at him, his expression concerned.

“Not well, I take it?”

Kei doesn’t even want to think about it. Why his parents thought to put such a ridiculous clause in the contract was byond him. Especially in modern Japan. Yes, parents still desired for grandchildren to carry on so the family name doesn’t slip into non-existence. Still, love and marriage is more based on the individual now-a-days, and Kei can’t even fathom a serious relationship at this time in his life. Not with so many changes happening to him and so many responsibilities he carries.

Kei focuses on his lunch, trying to keep the tightness out of his voice, “Can we talk about anything else?”

“Yeah, sorry Tsukki,” Yamaguchi relents. He never pushes and Kei is grateful. “Are you at least looking forward to the party?”

Kei snorts, his head bobbing from the force of his derision, “You know me. I’d rather spend the evening alone with a good book, or with a few close friends. Not parading myself around for the judgement of others.”

Neither one acknowledge the elephant in the room, that Kei means the party is as much an engagement party as it is his coming out/birthday party, that Kei will meet the man who made it to  the top of a short list of individuals screened as potential marriage material.

If anything good can be said about the one awful stipulation that remains the last obstacle before he is officially the owner of a Fortune 500 corporation, it’s that the rules never stated his marriage has to be heterosexual. Thank the gods for that since Kei has never once been attracted to women in his life, and with the government's acceptance of same-sex marriage, well, at least one thing in Kei’s life is going his way.

“Maybe it won’t be as bad as you think?”

Kei sends Yamaguchi an exasperated glare, and his friend smiles meekly back. Could they not just drop the whole conversation? “Sorry,” Yamaguchi apologizes. “So what’s next on your agenda? You know, since the prince has finally taken his crown.”

Kei rolls his eyes as he considers throwing a chunk of pork at his cheeky friend. He lets it go since Yamaguchi finally takes pity on him, allowing Kei to focus on anything but the coming evening. He shrugs his shoulder and takes a bite of his food. “I guess it’s just official meetings with the board and stuff,” he says after swallowing the bite.

Yamaguchi exaggerates a shudder, “Can't even get used to your new title before they throw you to the wolves.”

Kei snickers, “I won’t go down that easy.”

“Oh I know, Tsukki. If anyone can handle a bunch of old men fat on self-pride and expensive food, it’s you.”

Kei blushes at the complement, especially since he doesn’t have half as much faith in his capabilities as his best friend did. “We’ll see,” he defers, fighting off a fresh wave of anxiety at the thought of letting down his parents’ legacy. Yamaguchi must have been able to sense his worry because he reaches across the table, gently placing his hand over Kei’s as it grips his spork.

“You’ve got this, Kei,” He comforts, melting Kei’s worry with a simple, confident smile. Yamaguchi retreats back to his side of the table, his smile growing ornery, “Anyway,” he continues, his gray-brown eyes gleaming with joyful mischief, “If things do go to shit, we can always run away and become pirates.”

Kei laughs, memories of their youth spent running along the beach and pretending to search for buried treasure flashing through his mind’s eye. Those are some of Kei’s favorite memories of a time before heartache and loneliness snatched away his imagination and childish innocence.

For a second, among the remembrances of days on the beach at the bottom of the cliff where his home stands, a different beach flickers in and out between the scenes. A beach that led to a magical and isolated paradise where Kei discovered a true treasure with flaming hair, big brown eyes and a bigger smile, and iridescent colors that caught the sunlight like a living rainbow.

“Do you remember when we promised to sail the entire ocean together?” Yamaguchi asks him with an indulgent chuckle, dragging Kei from memories long forgotten. He did remember.

He also remembered a promise of a different kind. A promise made in the fading light of the sun, sitting on a rock in the cool spray of a waterfall where warm lips brushed his as light as a feather. When those big brown eyes gazed at him as if he’d set the sun in the sky. When a soft voice whispered ‘I love you’ and ‘Wait for me’. When Kei thought he always would.

Kei feels like his heart will crack in two, as if his chest will cave in, sucking the rest of him through the black hole that would be left in the void. He has to actively calm his breathing, shoving back those memories into the dark where he’s kept them under lock and key all these years after deciding they were nothing more than the fancy of a childhood crush. He shakes his head, dislodging himself from the web of disappointment those memories try to trap him in.

“Everything okay, Tsukki?”

Kei blinks and looks to Yamaguchi who is staring back at him with concern. Kei clears his throat, giving himself another second to collect his thoughts. “Yeah, just overwhelmed.”

Yamaguchi nods and Kei sighs in relief that he doesn’t ask any further questions. Best to leave the past dead and buried where it lies.

After that, their conversation turns to more generic topics and Kei begins to breathe a little easier.

Yet, brown eyes and bright, red hair, refuse to completely stay hidden, and Kei finds a small flame of hope burning small in the surrounding darkness.

“Wait for me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for sticking around!
> 
> Comments and kudos very welcome here. Also, if you like it and think it's worth the read, please fell feel to share on tumblr, your discord, or any other platform. Thank you!


	3. Chapter 2: I'd Rather Be a Wallflower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsuki has to endure a party meant for him. Fortunately, he get to meet a handsome stranger. Unfortunately, Mother Nature has bad timing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is reading this. I am linking a picture of the yacht where the party takes place in case your interested. Hopefully it works.
> 
> [Superyacht](https://www.luxusblogger.de/2014/11/25/145-meter-spektakulaerer-luxus-superyacht-x-force-145-15977.html)

Yamaguchi leaves after they finish their meal. Kei is sad to see him go, but only because he’s now stuck in meetings the rest of the day when he’d rather spend it with his best friend. So far, his eighteenth birthday has been underwhelming in the fun department.

After lunch, Kei is immediately dragged back to the large conference room he’d occupied earlier when signing his contracts. He walks into the room, his suit still impeccably pressed, straight, hair in place, and his nerves going haywire like jumping beans on a hot plate. Eight men stare back at him with varying expressions of expectation and apathy. The delicious lunch Kei enjoyed with Yamaguchi begins to sour in his stomach, the need to throw up building as he begins to panic.

A steady hand lands on his shoulder as he approaches the table. Kei turns his head to find Takeda smiling at him in encouragement, nodding at Kei, and gesturing for him to take the seat at the head of the table. Kei swallows thickly, stuffing down his fears of imminent failure, and steps up to the large, leather rolling chair. He pulls it back, the plastic wheels grating against the wood flooring, and unbuttons his suit jacket.

Kei takes a deep breath as he sits down, centering himself and reminding himself he is not alone in this; Takeda is there with him and he will not let Kei falter. Kei leans back in his chair, the nauseous feeling subsiding as calm detachment settles in. 

“Good day, gentlemen. It seems we have a lot to discuss this afternoon, so I suppose we should get down to it.”

****

**-8-**

****

It turns out the board isn’t as bad as Kei had originally thought they’d be. His afternoon—spent reviewing their positions and productivity—while intimidating at first, had actually become tedious. The members, it would seem, lack any sense of humor, delivering their information over the next three hours in the driest way possible. 

One thing that is a comforting surprise occurs when the meeting ends. Kei fully expects them to run from the conference room as soon as possible, or at least walk away, indifferent to their new leader. Instead, most come to him, clapping him in the back or shoulder, and congratulating him on a successful first meeting. Afterward, glasses of champagne are delivered and passed out, and a toast to a profitable future given. Eventually, each of the men filter out, promising to see Kei later that evening for the party. As much as Kei appreciates the support from them, he inwardly grimaces at having to schmooze them later. 

If Kei could choose, he’d rather be a wallflower.

Regardless, Kei takes a relieving breath, ready to leave the premises as soon as possible, and return home to take a short break before he has to get dressed. 

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” Takeda asks, a teasing smile hidden away as he busies himself gathering up documents and preparing to leave with Kei.

Kei sends him an exasperated glare and Takeda chuckles. “Please tell me we can finally leave?” Kei huffs, “If I have to look at one more legal document or graph, I swear I’m gonna find a way to papercut myself to death.”

Takeda snorts, “I would have never thought ‘papercut’ could be used as a verb.” He shoots Kei a wary look, “I understand it’s monotonous, but you better get used to it, Tsukishima-sama.”

Kei frowns. He knew this, but the day was so overwhelming he just wants it to be over. “Anything can be used as a verb now-a-days. Such as I pulled an  _ Ittesu  _ and haven’t stopped working for  _ days _ .”

It was Takeda’s turn to huff, staring deadpan at Kei who only gazed back as innocently as a lamb. “Ha ha, Tsukishima-sama. I wouldn’t work so hard if I didn’t love my job.”

Kei rolls his eyes and heads toward the door once Takeda has his arms full. “Should I accompany you to your office or wait for you in the lobby?” He asks as they step into the hall. 

Takeda seems to consider this for a moment, then turns to Kei, “If you want to head back, feel free not to wait. I still have a few things to finish up here before I return to the manor.”

Kei raises an eyebrow at him, his previous use of Takeda’s given name still hanging in the air as a tease. Takeda ignores the obvious and adds, “I will return in time to accompany you to the party.” He jostles the paperwork in his arms and gives Kei a light shove. “Go Kei. Relax a bit, I know you need it.”

Kei sighs, deciding against arguing with his work-a-holic former guardian. The man seemingly never slept. Kei nods at him and makes his way toward the elevator. Takeda will have called the car around by the time he steps outside, so Kei doesn’t even bother. 

The air outside is crisp, the slow chill of evening settling into the evening, reminding Kei of spiced cider and warm pie. He wants more than anything to have those two things as he sits in his library by the large fireplace, wrapped in a blanket and reading a good book. Instead, Kei will head home to a quick snack and a light doze before facing the ordeal of getting ready for the party.

It isn’t just the party itself that has him irritated to no end, but the location as well. He has several reasons for disliking the venue. Number one was the time of year. They would be heading out on a rented superyacht which would be anchored offshore. While it was still early fall, it was cool enough that sitting on the water would be colder than staying on dry land, even if the fireworks would be spectacular. It’s a good thing his tuxedo is wool, it’ll help stave off the chill that will undoubtedly be in the air.

The second and biggest reason had to do with being on the boat itself. Kei isn’t afraid of the ocean any longer nor does he dislike boating in particular, however, he doesn’t go out of his way to board them either. Takeda knew this, but from what Kei understood, the original site chosen for his birthday party had already been booked for months—a wedding or something. 

In the end, Kei had very little say; both because there is nowhere locally appropriate to hold the event and because the party is more about posturing and networking, and little to do with Kei himself. The guest list is as extensive as it is exclusive. It isn’t just executives and their wives making appearances. The guest list boasts of approximately two hundred attendees, a fair amount of them being government officials and foreign diplomats; people Kei could not care less about, except that they stay interested in his corporation. 

(Huh, since when has he begun referring to his family’s business as  _ his _ ?)

Let us not forget Kei’s—no, Takeda's—number one guest; Kei’s would-be husband.

The trip back home feels like it takes longer than the trip to work. Maybe it has to do with Kei’s eagerness to carve out some time to himself, but by the time the car pulls into the garage, Kei was ready to tuck-and-roll.

“I’ll see you in a few hours, Tsuki!” Bokuto calls to him as Kei quickly makes his way indoors. He doesn’t even bother to correct his driver, it never helps anyway. Bokuto will always address him informally, it’s just apart of his personality, and if the man wasn’t so genuine in his words and actions, the fact he does so would concern Kei more than it does.

Once inside, Kei immediately begins to feel the stress of the day fall away from him, melting from his shoulders to puddle at the floor beneath his feet. It isn’t wrong to assume that Kei is a willing homebody. To some, Kei’s position as the heir to a major corporation would seem to contradict the actual person holding the title, and they would be correct in his humble opinion. Kei is not built for leadership, or so he thinks. Kei has always considered himself more of a background character, someone standing off in the shadows, only adding filler to the main show. He was content with that. He would be content to stay home, managing the household and keeping to himself, without the world judging his every action. 

But that option had been stripped away from him some time ago; back when he was still a boy. Back when he still had a family. Back before Akiteru…

_ No _ . Kei shakes his head, dislodging thoughts he’d banished a long time ago in an attempt to move on in resignation of his new status as heir.

Kei makes his way to his room, navigating the labyrinth of halls he could walk in his sleep. It takes him only a few minutes before he’s shoving his way inside his room. The moment the door closes behind him, Kei releases a long exhale, officially feeling the rest of the tension leave him. He just needs a little time away from the world, just a little  _ me _ -time. Kei understands that these moments he has always taken for granted will soon dwindle away to the bare minimum. He’s tried to prepare himself as much as possible before today, but it will take some getting used to regardless of his efforts.

As far as he’s concerned, Kei should win a medal for the amount of patience he displayed today. 

Kei begins to strip his suit off, laying it carefully over one of the chairs that make up the small lounging area opposite his bed and situated in front of the large windows. His room is clean, thanks to the staff, though unlike most of the rest of his home, it still reflects his own style. When one walks into his room, on the wall to his right is the set of double doors that lead to his master bathroom. Adjacent to that, his platform bed, a modern, raised wood frame with a thick futon, rests against the wall. A bedside table sits next to it, made of the same hardwood and large enough to house a lamp and other odds and ends he likes to keep close. It was even made with one shelf where he keeps the books he is currently reading stored. The floor-to-ceiling windows sit adjacent to that and straight across from the entrance. They curve out a bit, making the view feel even more panoramic, and the lounge is situated comfortably in that nook; two plush chairs, a low table, and a large, well worn bean bag chair he’s had for years that he simply refuses to give up. 

The wall opposite his bed follows the curved frame of this floor of his home, and a door leads to a balcony that’s tucked away and overlooks a courtyard below. It stays mostly hidden form direct sunlight, so it’s a comfortable place to have breakfast during the hot summer when you still want to enjoy the fresh air. It’s not too big, and holds a small patio table with a couple of chairs and a small outdoor fireplace for fall days. Stairs descend from it, curving around the building to end at the courtyard which leads out into the back garden. 

This room was once his parents’, and just like it will take some time for him to get used to what was once his father's office, he had to get used to calling this room his own. For the longest time he felt like an intruder and snuck into his old room to sleep. Staying in this room brought back memories accompanied by nightmares for several months. 

As with most things, time dulls the senses and he was eventually able to stay. Now he wouldn’t trade this room for anything, it was his sanctuary. No longer haunted by the ghosts of his parents, it is the place he can retreat to for security and comfort.

Like now.

Kei grabs a pair of lounge pants and a long-sleeved t-shirt. He pulls on the tee and sits at the foot of his bed to slip on his pants. People shouldn’t ever be forced to get out of their pajamas. 

Kei is debating on whether to have a nap or curl up on his beanbag when there is a knock at his door. 

“Yes?” He calls, slightly miffed at being disturbed. 

The door opens and Akaashi slips in, bowing respectfully in the graceful and dignified way he does. Kei stares at him with indifference, withholding the glare he would rather send him. 

“Tsukishima-sama, I apologize for bothering you, but I wanted to ask if you would like some tea or a bit to eat?” Akaashi stares back at him, his large, green eyes warm but distant, despite the cold tone of his voice.

Kei refuses to snap at him, Akaashi has already seen more of his hand today than he’d ever shown him, and as much as it pains Kei, he would prefer Akaashi see him as always composed instead of nearly losing his shit.

“Tea would be fine, thank you,” Kei says, his voice even and confident, the opposite of what he feels in Akaashi’s presence at all times. 

Akaashi doesn’t answer him, only bows before gliding out of the room, closing the door behind him. 

Kei decides on his beanbag while he waits for his tea. Rising from his seat on the bed, Kei grabs his book from the bedside table and snuggles into his fluffy chair. The noise of the shifting styrofoam balls reminds him of rain and it’s oddly comforting. Kei sort of wishes it would rain this evening, but he already knows the forecast predicts clear skies.

Kei sighs. Luck is never on his side. 

Within minutes of Akaashi’s departure, another staff member arrives to bring Kei his tea. This time it’s Yaku, Akaashi’s second in command. Yaku knocks once before entering with slight bow, a tray with Kei’s favorite mug sitting atop it, along with a small bowl of fig pudding. “Akaashi felt you might like a small snack to go with your tea and the figs are fresh from the garden.”

Yaku is short, to put it bluntly, and not nearly as refined as his supervisor. He’s blond as well, telling of his European background like Kei. Kei finds him immensely easier to deal with, even if he can be somewhat intimidating. He supposes Yaku’s aggressive presence has to do with his smaller stature, always feeling like he has to make himself known in a world of giants in comparison. It probably doesn’t help that the majority of Kei’s household towers over him, although many have learned the hard way not to make light of Yaku’s height. 

Kei’s nerves, as the time of the party draw near, are overshadowing his desire to eat. However, he has been feeling a little peckish, though he won’t admit that Akaashi always magically seems to know his needs before he does. “Hm,” Kei responds as the tray is set on the table before him. The spicy scents of dates, cinnamon, and figs mix with the earthy, smooth aroma of semi-sweet chocolate making Kei’s mouth water. 

Yaku is still standing there when Kei slips a spoonful into his mouth, resisting the urge to hum around the silver and close his eyes. Kei wants to ignore him and hope he goes away on his own but dealing with staff isn’t like that, and dealing with Yaku definitely doesn’t work in that way. Kei has always thought of himself as stubborn. Yaku makes Kei look like a doormat, especially when he has something on his mind.

“Is there anything else, Yaku-san?” Kei sighs, resigned to whatever it is that Yaku needs to discuss.

Yaku gazes at him a few moments more before letting out a sigh of his own. “You should give Akaashi a chance.”

Kei tries not to let his shock show on his face. If he knew anything about Yaku, it’s that for all his bluster and demands, he did not involve himself in others’ personal business, especially that of his employer. Yaku was as professionally distant as Akaashi was cold and dignified. Kei never saw him upset or lose his temper, except for once, and that had been an accident, when he’d walked in on the end of an argument between the small, blond butler and their creepy red-headed gardener.

Regardless of the surprise of Yaku’s more human side showing itself, Kei found he was a little irritated that one of his staff would presume to insert himself into a situation that had nothing to do with him. “I am not sure that is any of your business, Yaku-san.” Kei answers him, every bit the Lord of the Manor in his tone.

Yaku narrows his eyes, drawing his mouth in a tight line of disapproval. “I am not saying it is, but Akaashi’s a good man.  I don’t know what he’s done to pis-upset you, but it’s digging at him, even if he won’t admit it.”

“And here I thought Akaashi-san was just your boss and not your friend,” Kei accuses, letting his exasperation with the intervention show. Yaku is making him feel like the bad guy, and though Akaashi technically has done nothing wrong, Kei refuses to be backed into a corner. It’s not as if Kei is playing the victim with his feelings, but they are his feelings, whether Akaashi is deserving of them or not.

“The last I checked, Tsukishima-sama, those terms weren’t mutually exclusive.” Yaku isn’t as good at hiding his emotions as Kei or Akaashi are, but Kei still has a hard time reading him at the moment. He isn’t sure, but he thinks that...pity flashes behind his large, brown eyes before he manages to cover it up with that professional dispassion. Kei isn’t sure if the fleeting emotion was meant for Akaashi or him, but the fact he even saw it incenses him.

“I think I am covered here, Yaku-san. Thank you, but you may go.” Kei punctuates the finality of their discussion by picking up his still hot tea and turning his back on the head butler, staring out the window in tense apprehension. Kei catches a glimpse of Yaku in the reflection of the window, he remains in place for a few anxious moments, frowning at Kei, before turning and leaving quietly.

Kei sets down the mug and sighs long and low, like he’s breathing out the weight of the world. He sets the cup down and falls back onto his beanbag, stretching his legs out. The puffy piece of furniture is wide and long enough to accommodate his 6’3 frame comfortably, and Kei is grateful for the thousandth time he refused to throw it out when it had been suggested to him.

Not for the first time this day—or even this afternoon—Kei wishes his birthday would hurry up and be over.

****

**-8-**

****

Kei wraps the towel around his waist, tucking the corner between the towel and his body. The heavy, plush terry cloth hangs low on his hips, and he hopes it stays put as he walks up to the counter and swipes at the condensation that has built a film over the mirror. Kei stares at  himself, assessing and analyzing any flaws.

One of the things he absolutely despises about these events is having to look constantly on point. Don’t get him wrong, he likes fashion as much as the next person, but the judgement never stops at just his clothes. It’s his hair, his skin, his...whatever. For as long as he can remember, he’s been told he’s exceptionally attractive, even to the point he’s been asked to model for a few well-known designers, which he always refused. Frankly, Kei doesn’t understand it. He’s tall, yes, but lanky, more narrow than anything. His features are sharp, like his personality; with wide, slanted eyes under harsh, thin eyebrows, a pointy upturned nose, thin lips, high cheekbones, and a narrow chin. The only thing he truly likes about his looks is the blond hair he received from his mother and the fact he looks like his father, whom he feels was vastly more handsome than he could ever be. 

It’s not a stretch to say that Kei feels a little insecure about his appearance. Especially with the jagged stretch marks that litter his arms and legs due to rapid growth spurts. Kei sighs. At least his body will be covered up.

Kei runs his hand along his jaw, not surprised that it’s still smooth, he will never suffer from a five o’clock shadow. Kei grows facial hair in patches like oases in the desert, and his hair grows slow so he only needs to shave maybe twice a week. He finds it oddly funny that the only place he grows hair in abundance is on his head and...well, his nether regions. 

Without the need to shave, Kei has a little more free time. His suit was brought up earlier from the tailor and hung in his closet. So, instead of rushing to get dressed, Kei glides back into his room, falling face first onto his bed, screaming into the navy duvet, if only to relieve the jittery feeling making him feel as if he’s about to crawl out of his skin. 

He lays there for a moment, wondering if he can get away with pretending to sleep through the entire party. Probably not. Takeda would only barge into his room, tripping over his own feet to drag Kei kicking and screaming onto the boat. He probably wouldn’t even allow Kei to change, claiming, ‘You’re already so late!”

Kei smiles at the thought of a bunch of self-important people scandalized by Kei showing up in a towel and nothing else. 

If he was only braver.

Kei raises his head and checks the digital clock on his bedside table. He has forty-five minutes to finish dressing and be ready to leave. It is plenty of time with room to spare, but Kei’s legs suddenly feel like jelly. He wants to blame it on hunger, but he  _ knows _ what has him feeling so apprehensive.

He’s only a few hours away from meeting  _ him _ . 

Whomever that is.

Which is the problem. A part of him wishes he had any information on this person, but he had adamantly denied any attempt of Takeda’s to prepare him for this moment over the last few weeks. Kei is not interested in the least in getting married, trusting Takeda to have his best interests in mind. 

Kei pushes off his bed with great reluctance and heads back into the bathroom, and to his closet. Inside his tux is laid out for him; the jacket and vest hanging on the hanger and his pants carefully folded over the bar beneath. The pants and jacket are an expensive and soft black wool that will protect him from the chill on the boat. The vest is a gold silk with matching bowtie. His shoes are black and polished to a mirror shine. On the bench beside the suit hanger is a simple white button down shirt, black Italian leather belt, and a pair of soft gold colored wool dress socks. 

Kei pulls off the towel, dropping it to the floor for the time being before grabbing a pair of boxer briefs and a t-shirt. He puts that on and heads back into the bathroom to finish his after bath routine, which really only consists of brushing his teeth, rolling on deodorant, and spritzing on some cologne.

Kei returns to the closet, pulling on his suit, adding a set of gold cufflinks and a tie pin with diamond insets. He checks his appearance in the mirror, and satisfied, returns to the bathroom to fix his hair, leaving it casual as the air offshore tends to be windy.

He’s fully dressed and ready to go when there’s a knock at his bedroom door. It opens moments later after he answers the knock, inviting the person inside.

“If you are ready, Tsukishima-sama, the car has arrived out front and Takeda-san is waiting,” Akaashi informs him, and Kei is briefly reminded of his abrupt conversation with Yaku. He doesn’t have time to contemplate Yaku’s assumptions or his own prejudices, not when Akaashi’s question rolls around his head like a mocking echo.

Is he ready? Not really. But, when has that ever mattered?

****

**-8-**

****

The party seems to be a success. Kei can’t really tell, but people aren’t diving off the side of the stupidly large boat to get away, so he assumes things are going well. He arrived ‘fashionably’ late, pulling up to the pier in the limousine that could easily house two families. It’s not that he begrudges his wealth. It’s just that he’s not exactly...fond of excess. Decadence. It feels more like a circus performance than a life at times.

Case in point; the superyacht is too big to dock at the pier jutting from the private beach he owns which establishes one of the borders of his property (technically his property extends to a portion of the ocean but that has never really been necessary information). The point is, the ship (which is basically the size of a small cruise ship) cannot dock, so several smaller, recreational boats are employed to ferry guests the short distance across the water. One of the main attractions on the ship was the lower deck stern side. It sits flush against the water, and not railed, perfect for diving or leisurely kicking at the water, but most importantly, it provides the best possible dock to unload guests. Of course there are two more similar docks, starboard and port side. They are smaller and meant more for relaxing with a lounge setup, but they’re still functional for picking up or dropping off if necessary.

Kei kind of considers these docks hazards as drunk people tend to fall frequently and it will be his luck to find himself in a lawsuit after some idiot dignitary drowns himself.

Still, as he stands aboard the boat carrying him to the party that is in full swing with champagne colored lights and soft music, he can’t help but be slightly impressed by Akaashi’s efforts. Takeda has explained that the head butler had taken in the brunt of the responsibility in organizing the event. However, Kei would rather drown himself in the ocean than let on how pleased he is.

It takes no time for the boat to arrive alongside the wide deck, a set of mobile stairs pushed up near the edge to provide passengers with a smoother descent. Kei tugs at the hem of his tux to smooth out his nerves as he makes his way starboard. Kei descends the stairs amid the hum of chatter and flashing cameras. Littered among the executives and political guests are the few journalists privileged enough to have received an invitation. Kei hates the attention, but he understands it’s a necessary evil and tries not to flinch too obviously.

He makes his way up the stairs leading to the interior of the boat, the entrance manned by a couple of security guards. Neither smile as he passes, and Kei ignores them as well. The moment he steps through the door, Takeda is standing by to accompany him as Kei shakes two hundred hands and fake smiles the entire time. Takeda has memorized the entire guest list, leaning close to inconspicuously whisper important tidbits of information about each person. Kei is always surprised how he manages to remember so many details about people Kei won’t even remember in five minutes. 

_ “Tsukishima-kun...ahh, wait, it’s Tsukishima-sama now, isn’t it?” _

_ “Happy Birthday, Tsukishima-sama. My how you’ve grown into a fine young man. Your parents would be proud…” _

_ “...overall growth in the past quarter because of the rise in…” _

Kei eventually makes his way to a hidden corner, sipping on his third glass of champagne and trying to keep his shit together. Tonight has been...overwhelming, to say the least. On a good day, Kei can only handle small groups of people before retreating lest he implode from overstimulation. This party is going to be the death of him. He’s been rushed from one outstretched hand to the next with next to no break, and the worst so far is how he’s  _ seen  _ Yamaguchi, but not actually  _ spoken  _ to him. There have been so many other guests clamoring for his attention that he hasn’t a second to spare for his best friend. Fortunately, Yamaguchi is a forgiving and understanding friend, recognizing the responsibility Kei has and patiently waiting for Kei to have a moment to himself. Besides, Yamaguchi didn’t look too put out anyway, as busy as he was flirting with one of the catering staff, some kid with an undercut and pierced ears, and, what Kei thinks could be, a tongue ring. Kei rolls his eyes at his best friend once he notices him, and Yamaguchi laughs, grinning mischievously, his eyes sparkling with too much sweet champagne and joyfulness. 

But that was a while ago, and now Kei stands on the second deck, a simple glass railing the only thing keeping him from diving head first into the cold ocean below. It’s by no means quiet where he is, but it’s peaceful, allowing him the few precious moments he needs to breath and compose himself. 

He pulls his phone from his pocket and checks the time. It’s nearly time for the fireworks display that has been commissioned by Takeda. Where Kei stands now he has a perfect view of the coast beneath his home. It’s from that direction the show will happen, shot from near the house, just outside the gardens on the open lawn. Kei plans to stay right where he is.

Kei is debating on a fourth glass of champagne when one is shoved in front of his face. He jolts back, startled by the new presence beside him.

“Nice weather for a party, right?”

Kei’s eyes travel from the crystal held by long fingers, up a sleeve that hides a toned arm, to a slender neck, before finally landing on perhaps the most attractive face he’s ever encountered. A wild head of ink black hair frames a narrow face. Black fringe obstructs an eye, but the one uncovered is a sharp almond shape, the iris hazel and pupil strangely cat-like. The man looks almost devious at first, yet upon closer inspection, the kindness within his eye softens him. His nose is as sharp as his face, and prominent. Thin, but soft, lips are pulled up at one corner in a cheshire grin that are doing things to Kei’s insides he would be embarrassed to admit. 

The smile grows as Kei stares, his higher mental capacity struggling to function under the gaze of such a handsome stranger. He recovers as quickly as he can, smiling politely in order to keep from offending anyone as a good host should. 

“I wouldn’t know, I’m actually sweating inside this monkey suit,” Kei eventually answers, not sure if he wants to continue the conversation with the sexy stranger or be left alone as originally planned. 

“Well, you could always strip,” the stranger replies, impish humor flashing in his eyes as Kei balks at his forwardness. “I mean, strip off your jacket. Reduce a few layers.”

Kei glares at him, but the stranger continues to grin, although it seems as if he’s now laughing at Kei. The man takes a sip out of his own glass of champagne, turning to look out over the ocean.

“Not sure what you were thinking,” he adds between sips, purposefully not looking at Kei. Kei does not dignify him with a response and decides right there he would rather spend another week stuck on this boat with every annoying dignitary, than spend another minute with this brazen ass.

Well, at least he got his champagne. 

The stranger disappears for a moment before returning, holding out a small plate of chocolate covered strawberries. Kei has already eaten his weight in them, but he can’t help but eye the treat, despite the fact this asshole is the one offering them.

Asshole nudges him with the edge of the plate and Kei relents with a sigh. He was never good at turning away sweets, especially strawberries. It’s a wonder he was never kidnapped as a child.

For a few minutes it is blessedly quiet, and Kei stands beside the dark haired stranger with the face of a god and the personality of a goat, in complete silence. The noise of the party fades into the background and the sound of ocean water lapping rhythmically at the side of the ship sings a lullaby that beckons Kei to nap. If only he could.

“If it were me,” The man begins, breaking the silence and causing Kei to wince, “I would have preferred a quiet evening and close friends to celebrate my birthday.”

Kei’s breath hitches, and he wonders if perhaps this stranger is reading his thoughts. He side-eyes him, watching how the stranger gazes out over the water, still sipping at his drink, and still smiling that sneaky grin.

“But then, how would I show off my money?” Kei humors the stranger with some sarcasm, and he’s rewarded with a low chuckle, the sound of which pours over Kei like warm honey. Ugh...he does not need this now. 

Kei can’t help his initial attraction, the stranger is beyond attractive, even if he’s an asshole. Still, Kei has yet to meet his future husband, and the last thing he needs is the inconvenience of a crush on some guy who is probably part of the staff anyway.

“Yeah,” the stranger replies, “All these entitled old men need someone to feel envious of.”

Kei snorts, taming the grin struggling to show itself. “And that’s why I must sacrifice my own comfort. Someone needs to keep the sharks fed.”

The stranger continues to grin at the water, but he answers, “More like jealous dragons.”

Kei scrunches his nose like he just smelled something bad as he retorts, “But that would make me the virgin sacrifice and I’m not sure if I’m comfortable with that metaphor around all these greedy old men.”

The stranger laughs at that, a genuine sound that curves his lips in a way that makes Kei wanna run his thumb over them, white teeth on display, and the one eye crinkling in mirth. Kei is glad the lights from the ship are behind them and providing cover for the blush that he’s sure is taking over his face.

He is so screwed.

A burst of colorful light and a sonic boom distracts him from the stranger’s beautiful face; the fireworks have begun, signaling the culmination of the party. The two men stand together once again in silence as they watch the sky and water light up with a myriad of colorful lights. The child in Kei squeals with delight and he doesn’t stop the small smile that overtakes him. Kei feels eyes on him and turns his head to find the stranger watching him, his grin softened and fond.

“You certainly are beautiful, Tsukishima-sama.”

Kei’s not surprised the stranger knows him, but he flushes at the compliment despite the fact he’s heard those words on more than one occasion tonight. He covers up his sudden shyness with a roll of his eyes and a snort.

“Do you say that to all the men you proposition before you’ve given your name?”

The stranger’s eyes widen and his jaw drops slightly. “I have done no such thing. I am much classier than that,” he says with mock indignation.

Kei grins, turning back to the fireworks still exploding in the distance. “I thought you wanted me to strip for you?” 

The stranger guffaws like a giant jackass, a sound which should make Kei cringe in secondhand shame, but only serves to heighten his dorky adorableness.

Wait, when had Kei decided this idiot was adorable?

“I think I’m going to like you, Tsuki,” the stranger says as he wipes away a tear. Kei frowns at him.

“Don’t call me that.” He doesn’t mean it to come out terse, but he really hates that nickname and Yamaguchi is the only person in existence he tolerates calling him it. The stranger doesn’t appear put off at all, he only continues to smirk at Kei, the cheshire mischief returning to his eyes.

The stranger moves closer to Kei, causing him to take a half step back when the other enters his space. Before Kei can mount a complaint, the stranger takes his hand and lifts it to his lips. Never breaking eye contact with Kei, he brushes his lips across his knuckles, a featherlight touch that sends a spark of shivers through Kei’s arm and up his spine. All Kei can do is stare slack-jawed at this cheesy display.

“See you later, Tsuki,” The stranger says, the timbre of his voice dropping an octave, making Kei’s knees weak. 

What the hell?!

The stranger drops his hand, taking a step back. He turns to leave, and Kei manages to gather enough cognitive functioning to shout at him, “Hey wait! What’s your name?”

The stranger pauses long enough to turn and wink at him before he disappears in the crowd. 

What the goddamned hell just happened?!

Kei is about to push his way through the mass of guests watching the fireworks when he’s nearly tackled by Takeda.

“Kei!” Takeda exclaims, barely repressing the excitement in his eyes and grasping Kei’d arm in both his tiny hands. 

“Ittetsu, do you know who that was?” He asks at the same time Takeda enthusiastically squeaks, “Did you like him? It looked like you two were getting along, but I don’t want to assume.”

Kei tears his eyes away from scanning the crowd to blink down at Takeda, confusion knitting his brow as his brain tries to grasp the meaning of his words. “What?” It’s not really a question as much as a demand for clarification.

Takeda’s big, brown eyes are almost, literally sparkling, the lights of the fireworks bouncing off his glasses as he pushes them up his nose, grinning at Kei like a madman. “Kuroo Tetsuro? Did you like him?”

Kuroo Tetsuro. 

Kei stares past Takeda, the name echoing in his head. He can’t stop himself as he whispers it, testing it out on his tongue. It fits him—sleek, like a shiny sports car, and unpredictable like a prowling panther. 

Okay, he was getting ridiculous now. 

Wait, why would Takeda be jumping around like a kid with a new toy over some random guest?

Kei returns his focus to his assistant, suspicious suddenly of his excitement. “Why would it matter if I did,” Kei queried, an eyebrow raised.

Takeda stops his nervous bouncing and tilts his head as he was the one who was now confused. “What do you mean ‘why would it matter’?” He starts, drawing back from Kei a little, “He’s the gentleman who has been vetted as your best match.” 

It’s as if the world slows to a crawl. The fireworks booming in the background explode in slow motion as guests smile and point in lazy wonder. The world narrows around Tsukishima and he turns his head as another eruption of color draws his attention. He’s not sure if he’s hallucinating, but he swears the fire in the sky has written out,  _ Kuroo Tetsuro, Kei’s Fiancé _ , beneath the twinkling stars.

Kei giggles, a little crazy with the information before a commotion jars him back to reality at hyper speed, and he finds himself being dragged through the crowd by the man himself—his apparent fiancé-m—and his eyes are shot wide because when did Kuroo even return? He says something to Kei that is not exactly registering because Kei is still hung up on the word  _ fiancé _ . He’s staring at the back of Kuroo’s dark head, then his gorgeous face, clouded with concern, as he says something else, still dragging Kei along.

Kei looks behind him to see Takeda running after them, and he looks...terrified. Kei wrinkles his brow worried for his friend, but unable to contemplate things further as he’s shoved down a set of hidden stairs used by staff. They make it to another hallway, their moving so fast, and Kei notices some of the guests panicking for some reason. As he takes in more of his surroundings his mind becomes clearer, and Kei beings to get nervous. What’s happening? Is the ship sinking?

He turns to ask Kuroo who’s behind him now, directing his path with a firm hand on his shoulder, “What’s going on?”

Kuroo gives him an incredulous look before answering, “What do you mean?” He gives Kei a stiff shove, “Keep moving, Tsuki.”

That just makes Kei dig in his heels, forcing them to come to a stop. Ahead of them he can hear the sound of someone yelling. Many of the guests are still, though there are a few on their phones, talking in hushed whispers. Kei catches a glimpse of an unidentified person wondering down the opposite side of the ship, and cradled in his arms is what appears to be a weapon of some sort...an automatic rifle?!

What the fu…the only people allowed at this party with weapons is the small detail of security placed around the premises, and none of them were packing heat on that level.

Kuroo shoves him again, trying to get him to move, but Kei just turns to glare at him. Like it or not, he’s responsible for the people on this overpriced boat, and he’s not moving until he figures out what the hell is happening at his birthday party.

“Kuroo-san, would you please explain to me why you’re rushing me all over this boat, why there are people on this ship with guns far beyond my security’s paygrade, and who the hell is yelling and scaring my guests?” 

Kuroo just blinks at him, one, twice, and three times before answering with his own question, “How have you not been paying attention?”

Kei flushes a deep red. Yes, he knows he spaced out for a bit. No need to rub it in, thank you. Still, his focus is not their biggest concern, and Kei crosses his arms over his chest, staring back at Kuroo expectantly. 

Takeda pokes his head around the bigger man. He’s sweating and looks as if he might pass out any second, but there is determination in his eyes. “Tsukishima-sama, we really need to move. Your safety is paramount,” he insists. 

Kei’s eyes widen, his shoulders drooping. His safety?

Kuroo shoves him again, and Kei reluctantly turns, allowing himself to once more be directed. It isn’t but a moment later they’re stopping at the portside deck, and Kuroo is dragging out the emergency raft and pushing Kei toward it.

Whoa! Uh-huh, nope.

Kei puts his foot down right here. He’s been down this road once before, he’s not setting foot in one of those rickety boats again.

“No,” He states, voice flat.

“Don’t be stubborn, Tsuki, it’s your best option at the moment.”

Kei turns to Takeda, but he’s no help as he stands guard, watching out for whatever is scaring him.

“I’m not getting in that thing,” Kei reiterates, glowering at Kuroo, “I don’t even know what’s going-”

“Pirates, you stubborn ass!” Kuroo snaps at him in a hushed tone. Kei’s heart rate skyrockets. How could that have escaped his attention?!

“Impossible!” He growls back, refusing to believe such a preposterous idea. “This close to Japan? They’d be insane.”

“Then insane they are,” Kuroo answers, exasperation tinting his words. He gestures toward the boat, “Now. Get. In.”

Kei still won’t go, having flashes of an accident that years ago stole his life. Besides, none of his other guests are clamoring to get off the ship, why should he run with his tail between his legs. If anything, Kei needs to find the person in charge, negotiate. His party is filled with so many people that would make good hostages and Kei needs to be there to make sure no one is hurt or taken. 

He takes a step back toward the interior of the ship planning to do just as he is thinking, but Kuroo stops him with an outstretched arm. “Tsukishima, you can’t go in there. They’re here for you, you must get in that boat and get out of here while I create a distraction.”

Kei is astounded he’s the target. Why? There are a number of dignitaries on his guests list that would be more lucrative if that’s what they were after. 

“Kei,” Takeda pleads, leaving his post to approach the two other men, “Please. I promised your parents I would always keep you safe, you have to go. I can’t lose anymore of my family.”

_ Low blow, Ittetsu.  _

Kei swears, but relents. He moves over to the edge of the deck, clamoring down into the small boat. It is nothing more than weak vinyl with a tiny motor, and Kei immediately begins to feel claustrophobic. He starts up the little engine, the quiet putter drowned out by the noise from the ship. 

Before he shoves out into open sea, he pauses, looking back at Kuroo who’s still standing on the deck watching him.

“Why are you doing this?” He asks.

“Now, what kind of fiancé would I be if I let my future husband get kidnapped?” The cheshire grin is back on his face despite the circumstances. 

“How sweet,” Kei deadpans, trying to cover up his own growing fear.

“I’m always this nice,” Kuroo replies, a hand on his heart and innocence in his eyes. Kei rolls his, turning his boat around.

The last thing he sees as his small escape craft disappears into the darkness is Takeda standing alone on the deck, tears slipping down his cheeks.

****

**-8-**

****

The tide was going out when Kei boarded the small craft, and along with the little 5cc motor, he made it out to open water rather quickly. Life is kind of funny how often it resembles fictional drama. One moment the skies were clear above the boat, the forecast of the evening stating clear skies, the next moment storm clouds were rolling in, dropping a deluge on top of Kei that barely let him see three feet in front of him in the darkness. He had intended to zip along, parallel to the coast for a time, until the ship was out of sight before turning back around and heading toward land. It was a good plan, but mother nature was out for him apparently. 

Kei had no time to make a plan before the rain started. It wasn’t long until he was clutching the side of the little boat, his motor gone, lost to the waves. It wasn’t a bad storm, so to speak, but when you’re out in the open with little protection and no control, it might as well be a hurricane. 

By morning, Kei had been too exhausted from bailing water and trying not to get tossed from the boat that as soon as the rain eased to a drizzle, he passed out, legs curled uncomfortably on the floor of the boat and head cradled in arms that draped across the narrow bench. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments and kudo extremely appreciated. I'm not gonna lie, this story is a labor of love and the lack of response has been disappointing. But hey, regardless, I am enjoying it.
> 
> Next up: Hinata's pov.


	4. Chapter 3: Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *Sings* What would I give to live where you are/What would I pay to stay here beside you/What would I do to have you smiling at meeee…
> 
> EVERYBODY NOW!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long, but, you know me. I'm a dirty procrastinator.
> 
> No, seriously, I told you I promised myself I would only post if I had something to post for another wip. Well, that's not going to well so I said "Fuck it". You're welcome.

He visits the island frequently in the eight years after that summer golden hair and honey eyes captured his heart. The memories held in this place hold a nostalgia he cannot shake. Not that he would ever willingly let them go. Some might say that holding onto promises made in childhood are in and of themselves childish, but those who would most likely say that never really were children in his opinion. For children, a promise made between two persons binds them as the sun is bound to the moon, and is just as everlasting. So, with that in mind, if Shōyō believes that with his whole heart, why avoid the place that holds a constant reminder of their promise?

As a child, and before they reach maturity, Shōyō’s father allowed Shōyō and his siblings a full turn of the moon above water. It is a tradition in his family, a gift from his father before childhood passes. However, after that, the surface world is off limits without express permission, a permission rarely granted by the king.

So Shōyō makes his trek to the island in secret, always keeping his eye out for a blonde haired human with a smirk that will ruin you. 

It has been mentioned that at a certain phase in life, Shōyō’s people celebrate the moment when the young shed their childhood, emerging as bearers of the next generation and ready to carry the burden of protecting their people’s way of life. After eight years, that moment has come and gone for him. Shōyō impatiently awaited his own right of passage, and on that day, he set out to seek what is his; the prize of a promise kept and cherished within his soul, never letting the flame of hope burn out.

Unfortunately, things never go as easily as one would hope. 

Shōyō sighs for the millionth time, tossing a stone into the water beneath the rock he sits upon. He curls his tail tighter to his chest and watches the water ripple, a forlorn expression upon his brow. He is so frustrated. He never would have thought that finding one person would seem so impossible.

“I told you this was a stupid idea from the beginning.”

Shōyō turns to glare at his defeatist friend, and in no mood to entertain his pessimism, he reaches out and flicks at him, sending his little crabby body hurtling through the air to land with a small plop into the water below. 

A chuckle from the water draws his attention. “He’s gonna be pissed at you.”

Shōyō merely shrugs his shoulders, indifferent to the warning, and planting his chin on his arm with another sigh. True to the words spoken, when the crab finally breaches the surface he’s sputtering curses and threats to cut off Shōyō’s tail when he sleeps. Shōyō ignores him. That is until the crab slowly makes his way back up the stone and pinches Shōyō in the side. 

“Ow! Bakeyama!” 

Kageyama may be small, but his claws still smart. Shōyō rubs the offended spot on his hip, glaring, again, at the little black crab. 

“That’s what you get for your abuse, dumbass!” He glares right back at Shōyō, his little crab claws awkwardly bent, and Shōyō imagines if he were a mermaid, his hands would be at his waist, curled tight into fists. The thought almost makes him chuckle. Almost, but not quite.

“Then don’t say dumb stuff, Bakeyama!” Shōyō scolds, turning away to lower his head back to its previous moping position.

“Well, I’m just trying to be logical here. How do you expect to find one boy in such a big world?”

Shōyō grinds his teeth, willing the tears building in his eyes to go away. “You know, I could eat you if I choose. It’s not like anyone would miss you,” he growls, not even bothering to look at Kageyama’s stupid crab face.

“And I would choke you before you could swallow my shell.”

Shōyō, having enough of his impertinence, whips around to face him, ready to make good on his promise. Kageyama’s beady, black eyes glare back, defiant to the end.

Before an all-out brawl between a mermaid and a crab can break out, their ire is doused by a wall of water. 

“Will you two calm down,” a third voice says quietly.

Pouting, but backing off, Shōyō and Kageyama turn their backs on each other, sulking like hatchlings fresh from their eggs. For just a little while, silence hangs heavy between them, then the hesitant and quiet voice speaks again.

“Shōyō.”

Shōyō curls a little farther into himself, refusing to acknowledge the voice out of sheer stubbornness. He sticks his bottom lip out for added measure.

“Shōyō, look at me.”

Ever so reluctantly, Shōyō raises his head, pout still planted firmly in place. He lets his eyes fall to the water below where his good friend, Kenma, floats lazily in the still water of the lagoon. His flippers barely cause a ripple as they cut through the water like they were slicing through the air. He bobs lightly with the movement, the clear water lapping at his shell. Kenma’s slender, brown neck stretches upward for a better look at Shōyō atop the rock. Small, soft yellow eyes watch him.

“Shōyō, you know Kageyama doesn’t mean what he says the way he says it?” His tone is quiet and hesitant as if he isn’t used to giving advice, but his gaze is steady. “He is a crab, after all. Negativity is basically implied.”

“You know, I can hear you up here,” Kageyama answers, his tone telling of his offense.

“Then try to be more helpful instead of a wet blanket,” Kenma replies, his tone exasperated.

“Wet-where do you even get these phrases?!” Kageyama huffs, mostly to himself, but loud enough to be heard.

“I like human conversation, sue me,” Kenma retorts, his neck retracting as if trying to hide from Kageyama’s judgment.

Kageyama mumbles incoherently to himself but doesn’t say anything else.

Shōyō, on the other hand, watches Kenma, his eyes distant and thoughtful. “What about you?” He finally asks the sea turtle. “Do you also think I should give up?”

Kenma is silent for a moment, dipping into the water briefly before reemerging to answer. “That depends on you, I guess. You know I’ll support you whatever you decide.”

Shōyō sighs again. “Yeah, thanks.” It’s not exactly what he wants to hear, but he supposes the half support is more than he deserves after dragging his friends around the globe, searching for what equates to one seashell amidst a shore of many.

“He wasn’t there,” Kenma continues, and Shōyō looks back at him, confused about his meaning. Kenma avoids eye contact, retracting his neck again and looking uncomfortable. “Kageyama wasn’t there, I was.”

The little crab side-walks his way to the edge of the stone to peer over it, his spindly legs making light ticking sounds with each rapid step. Shōyō watches him until he comes to a stop.

“What do you mean, Kenma?” Kageyama asks, eyes narrowing suspiciously. Shōyō turns to Kenma, curious as well. The sea turtles expressive eyes are the only thing giving away his disgust at having to divulge his opinion. Especially on a topic as sentimental as love.

“When Shōyō made his promise that day and the days before. I was there. I witnessed the affection that grew between them, as true as any love as I’ve ever seen.” Kenma, overcoming his trepidation, locks eyes with Shōyō, and Shōyō smiled gratefully at him, his eyes filling once again with tears. “I mean it, Sho, I’ll follow you as long as you need me. That’s what friends are for.”

“I always need you, Kenma,” Shōyō answers. 

Beside him, the little crab gives a little sigh. “Me too, I guess.” Shōyō turns to Kageyama, his smile stretching across his face. Beady eyes roll on their stalks and Kageyama says, “It’s better than sitting through your history lessons.”

Shōyō, overcome with gratefulness for his friends, reaches out to pat Kageyama’s shell since he is within reach. 

“Oi! Dumbass! Be careful, I only have one and if you crack it I’ll pinch you a hundred times!”

Shōyō giggles. “Sorry, sorry.”

It’s then a large, white albatross awkwardly swoops in, landing in the water below like a stone, causing a mini-tidal wave of water that sends Kenma floating a few feet away, nearly overturning him.

“Lev, please be more careful,” Kenma admonishes in a flat tone, righting himself before making his way back to them.

“Kenma! I have missed you!” Lev squawks. Kenma ignores him, diving beneath the surface of the water to munch on plant life, having exhausted his emotional tank for the time being. Lev pouts as much as a giant bird can, but it doesn’t last long before he’s flapping excitedly, splashing water like a child just breaching the surface, and generally making a racket.

Shōyō raises an arm to deflect incoming droplets of water, giggling at his friend’s antics. “Lev! Stop, dummy!” There is a click-click of pointy crab legs on stone as Kageyama takes shelter behind Shōyō while cursing the albatross.

“Guess what I saw!” Lev screams, still flinging water in every direction. “Guess! Guess!”

“Calm down and just tell us, dumbass!” Kageyama yells, peeking an eyestalk from around Shōyō. It looks kinda comical, the way it weaves back and forth, trying to get a look at Lev from high ground. It even looks like he’s glaring despite the lack of eyebrows.

“Be nice, Bakeyama, he’s obviously excited,” Shōyō shushes, batting a hand at him. 

Kageyama rears back, both eye stalks stiff. “Be careful, you moron, you nearly took out my eye!”

Shōyō sighs in fond exasperation, scooping up Kageyama to both hold him so he can properly see, and protect him from overenthusiastic water bird. Kageyama grumbles but makes himself comfortable in Shōyō’s palm, used to being handled. Below, Lev has composed himself, contentedly smoothing out his feathers. 

“So Lev, what was it you wanted to tell us?” Shōyō asks, watching the albatross with curiosity.

“What was that?” Lev turns to them, tilting his head this way and that, green eyes blinking in confusion.

From his palm Kageyama sighs, and Shōyō chuckles. “You wanted to tell us what you saw?” Shōyō reminds him.

Lev stills, floating effortlessly on the water for a moment before flapping his wings once again in excitement. Shōyōu laughs as he tries to protect himself and Kageyama from the spray, and Kageyama pinches a finger as he holds on for dear life.

“OW! Will you stop pinching me, dammit!” Shōyō exclaims, separating Kageyama from his sore finger, lifting him by the shell.

“Put me down! Put me down!!” Kageyama squeals in return. Shōyō huffs and places him back on the rock. Kageyama  _ harrumphs _ , clickety-clacketing toward the edge of the rock. “It’s too dangerous up here,” he snaps before climbing down to hop into the water from a safe distance. He swims out a few feet, keeping a respectable distance from the bird menace and Shōyō’s grabby hands.

“Last night,” Lev says, finally beginning his story, “I watched the humans celebrate. They used that sky fire, you know, the one with the different colors that glitter like a thousand shiny rocks.”

Shōyō curls around himself again, settling in to listen to his friend talk about all the things he sees as he travels over the human world. It wasn’t anything he hasn’t heard before, being friends with a bird allows him to learn all sorts of interesting facts about human life. Shōyō loves listening to Lev’s stories. He is incredibly curious about the human world, both because he finds it difficult to imagine a life above water, and also because of the human who holds his heart. 

“What’s so special about a celebration and sky fire, huh?” Kageyama challenges. He is less enthusiastic about the human world. Shōyōu is sure that if it wasn’t for him, Kageyama would never come to the surface, content to live under the sea always. It’s one of the reasons Shōyō thinks he’s good for Kageyama. Without him, Kageyama would be even more boring.

“Leave Lev alone, Bakeyama, his stories are always fun, unlike you,” Shōyō teases, mostly. Kageyama mutters something to himself but stays quiet. Turning back to Lev, Shōyō encourages him to continue, “What else did you see, Lev?”

The albatross looks smug as he continues, “The humans celebrated on their floating island…”

Kageyama snorts and both Shōyō and Lev throw him an annoyed look. He ignores them.

“It appeared that the celebration was focused on one particular human. But that isn’t the best part.” Here he pauses as if the next half of his story will reveal some great mystery.

Shōyō plays along with a chuckle, “And what part was that?”

Lev barely waited for Shōyō’s prompting before rushing into his story again, “More humans showed up, angrier than the first bunch. They were yelling about the human the celebration was for, demanding that he come out and go with them, and they were threatening everyone else. It was frightening. But the human they wanted escaped off the side of their island in an even smaller island. The whole ordeal was quite exciting.”

“How do you know all of this?” Kageyama asked, trying to mask his obvious interest in Lev’s tale, and the albatross bobbed his head a few times, pleased to have intrigued his crabby friend. 

Shōyōu was interested too. The humans make war on each other frequently, one of the reasons his father forbids surface ventures without express permission. He would be unhappy to know Shōyō broke that particular rule often, but he’s been good at hiding his activities for years. 

“I flew overhead, then landed in the water near enough to watch the whole thing,” Lev tells them, puffing up his chest with pride. “I’m no coward.”

“No, only stupid,” Kageyama counters, and Lev fluffs up, indignant.

“Am not,” Lev argues, “I was careful and humans are not as interested in a bird like me anyway.”

Lev glances at Shōyō and sighs, his green eyes darkening in pity. “He was caught in a storm. I followed him for a while to see what would happen to him, but I grew tired fighting the wind so I left to find someplace to wait it out.”

“That’s really sad,” Shōyō states, his shoulders drooping a little. He had been growing invested in the human who escaped. Unfortunately, experience has shown that many who venture out onto the open sea without protection often fall prey to a watery death. The ocean is not something Shōyō fears, of course, but he still finds it distressing when creatures not born of it die in its cold embrace.

“Yes, yes,” Lev agrees, bobbing his head again, this time as a nod to show his solidarity with Shōyō in this situation. “The human was very young, barely out of his fledgling stage by human standards.”

Shōyō sighs, his heart aching for the lost soul. He perks up slightly, an idea forming in his head. “Lev, you said the second group of humans were yelling for him, right. The one for whom the party was for?”

Lev nodded, his head bouncing eagerly, “Yes, they were very adamant about his appearance.”

“Did you perhaps hear his name? I thought I might offer a prayer for him.” Shōyō shoots a look at Kageyama, daring him to say something rude about his intentions. Kageyama only waves a small claw at him, indicating his utter lack of care.

Shōyō turns back to Lev who’s ruffling his feathers in agitation. He’s concentrating, his beak opening and closing as he struggles to form words not meant for him. It’s no small secret how difficult it is for the animal world to use human language. 

“SkeeEEshmA KEY,” he finally squawks, looking all the proud for his effort. “SkeeEEshmA KEY,” he repeats. Shōyō stares at Lev, trying to parse out the syllables in order to make sense of them. 

“Shōyō,” Kenma says, and Shōyō turns to him, he hadn’t even noticed the sea turtle resurfacing. Kenma gazes back, his head tilted to the side, his golden-brown eyes glinting with intensity, “He said Tsukishima Kei.”

Shōyō blinks back at his friend, the words he spoke slowly sinking in like a boat with a hole in it. Except Shōyō isn’t drowning, pulled under by the weight of the water. As the name takes shape in his mind, so too does a familiar face with eyes like the citrine rocks Shōyō hides away and a smile that glows as soft and shy as the moon he’s named after. 

Shōyō whips around to Lev, “This boy you saw, what did he look like?” He doesn’t want to hope, it’s been many tides since Shōyō began his search and even more since he last gazed upon the one he desires above all. But wants it to be true, oh does he want it so.

Lev seems to consider this before answering, “It was dark and the storm was coming so it was hard to tell. But I could see that he had skin pale as moonlight.”

Shōyō slumps, he was sure his Kei had skin browned by the sun, with small spots dotted across his nose and cheeks. The boy he remembered glowed, warm like the summer days they spent together.

“AhhHH! But, his hair. I remember...just before the clouds broke, the light of the moon touched him. It was golden, like the sun.”

Shōyō’s heart skips then thunders inside his chest like crashing waves. Could it be? Can he hope? Is it possible? Then Shōyō’s heart plummets as he remembers what Lev said. 

The boy who could be Kei has been lost in the storm. Shōyō begins to panic.

“Hey dumbass!” 

Kageyama’s voice yanks Shōyō from his thoughts, and he stares at the small crab floating nearby, his eyes wide with a mix of hope and fear. 

“What are you waiting for?” 

Shōyō looks to each of his friends, both Kageyama and Kenma watching him back, anticipation thick in the air as they await his decision. Lev cleans his feathers, completely oblivious to how his words have shaken Shōyō.

Suddenly, Shōyō dives off the rock, cutting through the water with ease as he pulls himself back to the surface as quickly as possible. He pops through the water right in front of Lev, startling the unsuspecting bird into loud squawking and flapping wings. Shōyō hushes him as best he can, but he’s too impatient and ends up in a wrestling match, having to pin Lev’s wings to his sides so he can talk to him.

“L-hev,” Shōyō pants, “Can you show me where you last saw him?”

****

**-8-**

****

Kei wakes up, the sun beating down on him but the cold ocean water chilling him through. He’s draped over what’s left of his small boat which had overturned the night before in the storm, it had been a miracle that he managed to keep a hold of it through it all. He can tell the back of his neck is burnt because the salt from the water and the drenched fabric of his suit jacket feel like a knife cutting into his skin. He’s bone weary from his struggle to keep from drowning and dehydrated, and he’s finding it hard to keep from giving up. His lungs hurt from all the water he choked on and even if he wanted to, he doesn't think he has it in him to right his boat and crawl in for the minimal amount of shelter it would give him. A sob forces its way up his throat and past his dry lips, but he doesn’t even have the energy to mourn his impending death.

Kei should have known his fate would be the same as his parents’. The ocean has never been kind to him.

Kei’s long fingers cling weakly to the slick bottom of the boat as a large wave knocks him around, but he doesn’t have the strength to hold on. Another wave crests, jolting his only safe haven in the vast, empty sea and Kei sinks beneath the surface. It’s just too much and he doesn’t have any more fight left in him. If this is how he goes, at least he’ll be with his mother and father again. He pities his brother, but he knows Akiteru will be fine; she will care for him.

Kei closes his eyes and his last thoughts before he lets the cold, cruel ocean carry him away is of wild, red hair and brown eyes like river stones. 

****

***

****

“...got you, please hold on…”

Kei flutters his eyes, squinting against the sunlight, and feels a strong arm wrapped tightly around his chest. His head jerks back and forth, rolling harshly against a sharp shoulder, until his forehead lodges against a neck smelling sweet of sea water and summer. It’s familiar, but he’s too water-logged to dig through his memory and connect them with his current circumstance. He thinks he ought to be more worried, someone has ahold of him in open water, but the concern is distant. It doesn’t matter anyway, it’s most likely only a dream. So, instead of struggling, he allows himself to be pulled back into the peacefulness of oblivion.  

****

***

****

Kei wakes again, this time to gentle fingers that caress his cheek and sand that rubs against his tender skin where the sun has blistered it. The fingers that trace a line from his cheekbone, to his nose, and across his lips hold his attention more than his physical pain. The touch is affectionate, as if the person is familiar with him. Oddly enough, he is not put off by it, but seeks it as he turns his face to seek more. Unfortunately, his head disagrees with the movement because he’s struck with a sudden, sharp dizziness. He blinks, his vision blurry as he’s lost his glasses, and he’s aware enough now that he notices the soft earth beneath him. He’s on dry land.

But how?!

He opens his eyes to focus on the face before him, but nausea and pain make it hard to focus. Still, through the fog, he sees a halo of red fire and eyes, clear as a morning blue sky and brown, like river…

Kei gasps, the face before him breaking out into a smile that puts the sun to shame. He tries to sit up and groans, every muscle in his body aching like he’s been hammered by a meat tenderizer. His head swims again and he dry heaves, dark spots floating before his eyes. Hands press lightly into his shoulders forcing him back down.

“Dummyshima..” The voice is deeper than he remembers, but still the same lilting tone, like music. 

It can’t be…

Kei never gets the chance to truly find out; the hands leave him and he feels a distinct absence of the presence that was just with him disappear. He tries to sit up again, forcing down the nausea threatening to make him puke again, gritting his teeth against another cry of pain, panicking because please, don’t leave him…

Kei can’t lose him again…

But when his vision begins to clear a bit more, there is no one around. Yet he hears voices calling his name from a distance. Kei ignores them, struggling to stay upright but determined to find him again.

To prove he didn’t just hallucinate the whole thing.

That Shōyō was here.

The voices are insistent, full of fear and panic, like he himself is. Kei tries to call out, but his voice is hoarse, both from disuse and dehydration. He clears his throat and tries again.

“Here!” He hollers a bit louder, yet the voices continue to call as if they didn’t hear him.

“HERE!” He forces himself to yell, his throat burning with the effort. “Here,” he says again, quieter, his eyes locked on the rolling waves of the ocean.

He  _ was _ here. It was  _ him _ . It  _ had _ to be.

“Oh my god! Kei!” One voice calls, watery as if the person had been crying.

“Tsukki!” That had to be Yamaguchi.

The next thing Kei knows is that he’s being dragged to his feet, cradled by Takeda’s trembling arms, covered in grateful tears, and smothered in praise. Normally he would hate this kind of thing, but he’s still reeling from his ordeal, and he’s still searching the water. 

The arms of his friend attempt to pull him away from the beach, but Kei pushes against his hold, stumbling on shaky legs that used to listen to him.

“Wait!” He cries out, desperate to stay, to know. “He was here, I can’t leave just yet!”

A different set of gentle hands wrap around his shoulders, Yamaguchi speaking softly to him, “Who, Tsukki? There’s no one here.”

“But, I swear it, he  _ was _ ! Didn’t you see him?!” Kei tries and fails to throw Yamaguchi off, he’s just too weak. 

“Kei, we need to get home and have you check out,” Takeda urged, his tone patient though his face is still a reflection of his hardship at nearly losing Kei.

Kei stands on the beach a moment more, willing for Shōyō to show himself, make Kei believe he hadn’t just been dreaming. However, exhaustion begins to creep back in, and he allows himself to be led away.

****

**-8-**

****

“Why did you run?” Kageyama asks in a low voice as Shōyō peeks around a shelf of volcanic rock jutting from the water.  Kei is being led away, down the shore; two humans by his side half carrying him. There is a third, handsome human with green eyes. He’s not as tall, but just as slender with curly, ink black hair. He keeps looking over his shoulder, his intelligent gaze almost falling on their hideaway.

Shōyō had been so close.

“I don’t know how other humans will react to me,” Shōyō answers Kageyama, climbing the rock before him so he can keep Kei’s retreating form in sight. Shōyō sighs, at least he has a better idea of where to find him now. 

“So, what now?”

Shōyō sighs. “I don’t know,” he mumbles, because he really doesn’t. A little more time, a few more minutes and he could have had something solid. Now, besides stalking the beach, he doesn’t know how to go about getting Kei’s attention.

Or if he’ll even remember the encounter.

He had been so close.

“We should head home, before your father realizes what we’re up to. We’ve been gone a while.”

Shōyō looks at Kageyama, frowning. Not because he’s upset at his words, but because they’re true. He glances at Kenma who’s bobbing in the water below him.

“He’s right, Sho. Let’s not push our luck.”

Shōyō turns his attention to Lev who’s standing a few steps away and cleaning his feathers again. “Lev,” Shōyō says, gaining the attention of his bird friend with a tilt of his head in Shōyō’s direction, “Do you think you could find out where Kei lives? Maybe watch over him until I return?”

Lev screeches and claps his wings, “Certainly, Shōyō. The fishing is good here.”

Shōyō smiles at him, grateful for his compliance, even if it’s mostly for himself. Shōyō climbs back down into the water, sinking below the surface, his gills filtering the oxygen. He breathes much easier in this environment, and while the air on the surface is not dangerous, it’s taxing after a while. Still, he’d suffer it for the rest of his life if it meant being with Kei.

Shōyō swims, twisting and curling and diving deeper. From deep within he reaches out, seeking the veil between this world and his, passing through the barrier as he’s done so many times since his childhood. 

When he’d first met Kei, Shōyō was just venturing out into the human world. It was a right of passage his father granted among him and his siblings; one full turn of the moon to explore but not engage. Under no circumstance were they allowed to make themselves known and the island was one of a handful of select locations they were allowed above water, all chosen for their remote isolation from human activity.

So imagine Shōyō’s surprise and bewilderment when he came across a human, let alone fell in love with him. He would never admit this aloud—Kageyama would forever tease him—but he is inclined to believe the Sea brought them together, their fates intertwined by the ancient waves.

Shōyō knows how fortunate he is that his father knows nothing of his adventures beyond the veil, assuming unyielding obedience from all his children. And it’s not as if he takes pleasure in lying to his family, but can one really blame him when he constantly feels the pull of his heart to reunite with the one he loves? 

The journey is silent as the trio glide through forests of seaweed and over the rolling hills of seagrass that make up farmland. Villages sprout up, growing larger as they draw closer to home, merpeople filling paths within and between towns, going about their daily lives, and paying Shōyō and his friends no mind.

The magic that surrounds his world also keeps it warm with sunlight during the day, and cool with moonlight at night. Time is different down here in the depths of the ocean, slower for Shōyō’s people than for the humans above. He wasn’t lying when he told Kei all those years ago of his people’s long lives. There is no war, no sickness, no impoverishment. Merfolk spend their long days happily in clear and unpolluted water, residing in living homes made of coral, sharing the sea with other ocean dwellers. 

Within their sacred haven and unbeknownst to mankind, the race of merfolk flourish.

Shōyō and his friends eventually cross into the canyon that stands as the entrance to Atlantis, his home, and it isn’t long before the spires of the White Castle come into view, glowing against the setting sun. 

As usual, Shōyō leads them in a circuit around the outskirts of the main city until they reach a hidden entrance to the castle tucked into a crevice. It was a long forgotten service entrance that had almost been overgrown with coral and colorful algae until Shōyō discovered it and gently cleared enough away to make use of it. He’s always been restless, and while he doesn’t hate the laws laid down by the King, Shōyō is never going to be good at following them completely. He is too curious for his own good, and long before he was breaching the surface of the human world, Shōyō was exploring his own.

And all to his father’s great frustration.

Before Shōyō entered the castle that evening, he turned to Kenma, bearing him farewell.

“We will try again soon,” Kenma encourages him as Shōyō cannot keep his disappointment and longing from his face. “Don’t lose heart, Shō.”

Shōyō gives him a small smile as the sea turtle turns, gliding away with the soft current.

“Can’t say that I’m not glad to be home again,” Kageyama says as Kenma disappears into the shadows of the night that finally settles onto the land.

Shōyō looks at his remaining companion and rolls his eyes. Of course, boring Kageyama would be happy to be back. “C’ mon, baka,” he replies, allowing the small crab to lead the way.

Shōyō knows his absence was probably noticed, he had been gone for several days. Still, he was glad Kageyama kept them to the outer corridors, neither wanting to hasten the lecture they were soon to face.

They rounded a corner and stopped short, the water around him bubbling with the motion, and Shōyō’s heart rate kicking up a notch to find Kōushi leaning smugly against the opposite wall with his arms crossed over his chest and tail waving lazily to keep him steady.

“Well well well, look what the dolphin dragged in,” he taunted, light brown eyes sparkling with humor. 

Shōyō groaned. As nice as his brother was, he wasn’t above blackmail. Shōyō wishes that if it had to be anyone he ran into it would have been Asahi. 

Kōushi pushes himself off the wall, gliding over to Shōyō, his long hair streaking silver in the moonlight. “You know dad’s been miffed since you disappeared. You’ve been doing that a lot, ever since your coming-out ceremony.” Kōushi leans closer, his smug grin slipping into something more conspiratorial as he whispers, “So, what have you been up to, baby brother?”

“Wha-I’m not-I haven’t been up to...I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shōyō stutters, leaning back and trying to put a little distance between himself and Kōushi.

“Real smooth, dumbass,” Kageyama grumbles into his ear, hanging off his shoulder beneath the curtain of Shōyō’s hair where he took shelter moments earlier. Shōyō resists the urge to throttle him, only sending him a side-eyes glare, but his attention is dragged back to Kōushi who stands back up, looking between the two of them.

Kōushi chuckles, the kind of laughter that says he was just teasing, mostly. Shōyō relaxes either way, his shoulders losing the tension that had been building up.

“Seriously though, Shōyō, whatever you’ve been doing, you better be careful. You don’t want dad to come down on you too hard.”

“I know,” Shōyō reassures, “I am, I promise.”

“You are what?”

Kōushi twists around as Daichi swims down the hall, stopping next to them, arms crossed in a way that was more fatherly disappointment compared to Kōushi’s ‘caught you’ stance. Shōyō ducks behind Kōushi. When it comes to his three brothers, the order of fear goes; Daichi, Kōushi, Asahi.

“Where have you been Shōyō?” Daichi asks, not even bothering to hide his disappointment and suspicion.

Shōyō can’t look at him, lowering his head. If he makes eye contact with his oldest brother, he’s doomed. He’ll spill everything and up until now, he’s managed to evade all inquiries into his activities.

Kōushi smacks Daichi on the arm. “Quit scaring him. He’s obviously not doing anything dangerous, so leave him be and stop frowning like Father before you get premature wrinkles, old man.”

Daichi huffs in exasperation, “Being responsible is not the same as being old, Kōushi.” 

“In your case, it is. Now, shoo.” Shōyō looks up to watch Kōushi wave away their brother, looking so very similar to their late mother, grin and all. Daichi rolls his eyes but follows orders, but not before giving Shōyō a pointed look, and He groans knowing he is not only getting a lecture from his father, but also one from Daichi.

Kōushi turns back to Shōyō with a lighthearted smile. “He’s not trying to be hard on you, Shōyō, he just worries,” he explains, though there is no need. Shōyō knows Daichi only cares.

“He’s a good brother,” Shōyō confirms with his own smile, albeit a little sheepish for the trouble he’s caused. “He’ll be a good King one day.”

“Ugh,” Kōushi groans, “Then we’ll never have any fun.” There isn’t any real meanness in his tone. Shōyō knows that out of the four brothers, Kōushi and Daichi are the closest, so he giggles and Kōushi ruffles his hair.

“You better go clean up, dinner should be ready soon,” Kōushi informs him. “Don’t be late, either, because Father probably already knows you’ve returned. Don’t want to add to the trouble you’re already in.”

“Oooowahhh!” Shōyō squawks, not unlike his albatross friend as he jumps to, swimming off down the hall toward his room with a wave at Kōushi.

“That was close,” Kageyama speaks into his ear before crawling out from his hiding place to paddle beside Shōyō. “If not for Kōushi, Daichi may have asked more questions.”

Shōyō sighs. “I know,” he replies, somber. 

With the help of a few shortcuts, Shōyō makes it to his suite, passing through the thick, hanging curtain of kelp that constituted his door. He breathes easier inside his personal rooms, for the moment safe from prying eyes and ears.

He settles into a hollowed out stone, curling into himself. It does feel good to be home, even if he longs to be near Kei. 

“I wonder what he’s doing now?” Shōyō asks no one in particular, sighing into his arms that are wrapped around his tail. In his mind’s eye, Shōyō can see the man he loves, his golden hair shining in the sunlight, his perfect face scrunched in confusion, his pink lips slack with shock.

Shōyō’s fingers brush his own lips, the memory of Kei’s dancing against his, warm like sunlight and as soft as a baby seagull’s downy feathers, and still very clearly felt despite the years that have passed. 

“Maybe he’s preparing a burrow for you?” 

Shōyō slowly pulls himself from his memories, his attention turning to Kageyama. “What?” He asks, thoroughly confused. He’s not quite sure how burrows fit into this picture.

“You know,” Kageyama says, his little crab claws waving vaguely and disturbing the current. “Because you’re his intended mate. He saw you today and if it were me, I would be preparing my burrow and spreading my scent so my mate would feel comfortable when we breed.”

Shōyō stares at Kageyama, his speech slowly processing. He blinks once at the crab, then his face falls, mouth dropping open in astonishment. An unidentifiable sound dribbles from his mouth before he’s yelling, “Are you an idiot?!”

Kageyama jumps, catching the light current that constantly streams through the White Castle. He allows himself to drift back a bit before snapping back, “Who are you calling idiot, dumbass! You asked!”

“But he’s a human, not a tiny crab! And don’t talk about yourself and breeding in the same sentence, it’s gross.”

Kageyama huffs, offense clear the way his eye stalks twitch, his beady black eyes glaring back, unblinking. “It’s perfectly reasonable to assume he would be preparing for you. And just because you’re immature enough to be embarrassed about breeding, doesn’t mean it isn’t a fact that I will soon be doing just that!”

Shōyō makes a face between disgust and horror. “Sto-op! I don’t wanna think about you and little baby Kageyamas. One of you is too much as it is.” 

Kageyama settles down on a nearby shelf, tucking his pointy legs beneath him and refusing to acknowledge Shōyō’s hysterics any longer. Shōyō presses on regardless.

“Also, I’m not even ready for...bree- _ that _ , and he is younger than me. Don’t  _ rush  _ things!” Shōyō emphasizes his point with insistent gestures.

“What are you not ready for?” Inquires a new voice.

Shōyō whips around as Hitoka enters his room, darting across the space with nervous speed. If Shōyō is small for a merman, then Hitoka is positively tiny, barely as tall as his shoulder when side by side from head to tail. Her blonde hair wafts about her, silky threads of sunlight, and reminding Shōyō of another sun touched being.

“What are you not ready for?” She asks again, followed by, “Who is younger than you?”

“Um…”Shōyō fumbles, eyes darting to Kageyama for assistance. The little crab stares back and Shōyō swears he’s smug. 

“You don’t have to tell me, Shōyō,” She answers for him, her expression crestfallen. “I’m just glad you back unhurt. I missed my friend.”

Her words pierce him like arrows. Shōyō has a lot of friends, but he only has a few close to him, Hitoka being one. Though she’s technically staff, she’s like his little sister. The worst part is that Shōyō doesn’t keep secrets from her normally. However, he’s never told her about Kei, though he wants to. 

So, maybe this is his chance. Knowing Hitoka, she’d be supportive as much as worried about him.

“C-can you keep a secret?” 

Hitoka’s eyebrows raise, her brown eyes darting from his twisting fingers to his nervous-bitten lip. She doesn’t answer him, only nods her head slowly.

Shōyō takes a deep breath, “I’m in love.”

****

**-8-**

****

His confession goes unsurprisingly well. Hitoka is shocked, of course, when he reveals his love interest is a human, but after some anxious warning, Hitoka, true to form, grows excited for him. It is a relief to tell her, and it renews Shōyō’s determination to finally be reunited with Kei. He never realized how downtrodden he is feeling until Hitoka’s warm acceptance and joy on his behalf. Now Shōyō floods with hope once again, his resolve settling like volcanic rock.

Now he sits in his room alongside her, sharing his adventures of that magical week he spent with Kei so many years ago and his efforts to find him again.

“...yeah, so I was almost caught, and all because her hair was almost the same color. Though, to be honest, sometimes it’s hard to tell humans apart.”

Hitoka is smiling widely at him, chin in her hands as she lies on the stone floor of his room, listening with rapt attention. A soft smile tugs at his own lips as he’s caught up in whimsical memories. 

“So do you think you’ll find him again?” 

Shōyō gives her a mischievous raise of his brow. “Who says I haven’t already?”

Hitoka soars upward, little hands clasped into tight fists, her expression full of excited awe. “Oh Trident! Have you?”

Shōyō giggles, covering his mouth with one hand, his head bobbing, his hair waving with the movement. “Today, actually. I rescued him after he was nearly lost to the sea. It was happenstance that Lev discovered him and was able to lead me to him.”

Hitoka gasps, “Is he going to be alright?” She is genuinely worried about Kei, and her sentiment touches Shōyō deeply. Not for the first time is he incredibly grateful that he is surrounded by good friends. 

“I’m sure he’ll be fine, he looked like he’d recover as his people assisted him down the beach to wherever they came from.”

“Please tell me you did not go to the surface.”

Dread swallows the warmth in Shōyō’s bones, and replaces his joy with cold terror. Shōyō turns to face Daichi, like a glacier creeping with the current. Daichi treads water just inside the entrance, his tail flipping not only to still him in the ever-moving water, but also in agitation. His long, dark brown hair drifts like a living entity and it feels just as disappointed as Daichi looks. Kōushi drifts just beyond their brother’s shoulder, his eyes wide with concern, and Shōyō doesn’t know if it’s for him because of what he has done, or if it’s for him and the confrontation that’s about to happen. Hitoka squeaks, darting behind him and cowering in fear. Kageyama remains on his shelf, still as stone.

“Daichi, I-I-you see, it’s not-I mean, I did but-” Shōyō stutters then snaps his mouth shut when his eldest brother puts up his hand, disappointment, and anger drawing his mouth into a deep frown. He glides over to Shōyō, looking down on him and making him feel even smaller than his natural height. 

Daichi shakes his head and sighs, “Why do you push the boundaries? Why do you break the rules, Shōyō?”

“Daichi, I-”

“You have been like this since you were a hatchling, but it’s got to stop.”

“Wait, I’m sor-”

“You not only put yourself in danger but also our entire world at risk, Shōyō. Do you not understand?”

“Of course-”

“You leave me with no choice, you know that?”

If Shōyō thought he was afraid when Daichi walked in, it’s nothing to the numbing fear that grips him now. Daichi wouldn’t…

“Wait!” Shōyō yells, throwing his hand out to stop his brother as he turns to leave. “Please, Daichi, wait. You don’t understand.”

Daichi doesn’t bend; he just continues to the door but Kōushi blocks the entrance, speaking up where he’d been silent moments ago. “Daich, don’t be so harsh. Let him explain before you throw him to the sharks.”

Daichi stares at Kōushi and glances back at Shōyō, and for a moment Shōyō nurtures hope that Daichi is reconsidering. Instead, he turns back to Kōushi, shaking his head.

“This is exactly what’s wrong. You are too easy on him, Kōushi. He has no sense of responsibility.”

Kōushi looks surprised and hurt. “That’s not fair, Daichi. He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“Daichi,” Shōyō begs, his voice thick and his eyes clouding with tears.

When Daichi looks at Shōyō gain, heartbreak is obvious on his face, and as much as Shōyō wishes he could hate him at the moment, he aches knowing how genuine Daichi feels about his actions.

“I’m not doing this to be cruel, Shōyō. You have to learn.” And with that, he swims away.

“DAICHI!” Shōyō screams, chasing him, desperate to protect his secret—a secret that is about to find its way into the open, and there’s no telling what consequences will follow. 

Shōyō knows that Kōushi, Hitoka, and Kageyama are following them, but he’s too worried about catching up with Daichi. He can’t let him get to their father but despite Shōyō’s speed, Daichi is still the stronger swimmer and before Shōyō can catch him, they’ve entered the throne room.

The throne room is enormous, as white as the rest of the castle. The story that is handed down through the generations is that, like the Trident, a giant pearl was gifted to Shōyō’s ancestors as a reward for guarding the seas. Out of it, the White Castle was carved, beautiful and glowing, even in the darkest of nights. The throne room is columned on both sides, elegant carvings of his family’s deeds and the history of his people engraved upon them. They line the wide path that leads to the seat of Keishin, King of the Sea and wielder of the most powerful weapon known to the world above and below, the Trident. 

Shōyō’s father sits, regal and intimidating, attending to their world’s needs with wisdom and longsuffering. When his eyes alight on his children rushing toward him, Shōyō still screaming at Daichi, he waves away the court and attendants, soon leaving him and his personal attendant, Shimizu, alone with Shōyō, his brothers, Hitoka, and Kageyama. 

“What with all the fuss?!” He bellows, causing them to slow down and quiet. Shōyō trembles next to Daichi; he wants to continue to plead his case, but he’s afraid of angering his father and inadvertently causing a worse outcome. 

“Father,” Dachi begins with a respectful bow and is interrupted by Shōyō who can’t stand idly by.

“Daichi,” he whisper whines, conveying all his heartfelt pleaing in one last look. It goes unacknowledged as Daichi steadfastly ignores him, his whole attention on the king.

“Father, it has come to my attention that Shōyō has been engaged in activities that are dangerous.”

The King’s eyes turn to his youngest son and Shōyō squeaks, falling back a few feet. “So you’ve returned, boy. What mischief have you gotten up to now? Is it that clan of sharks, again? Have you upset the orcas, again?” The King looks to Shimuzu who has floated impassively next to the throne. “What have we heard? What have I to fix that this troublesome child continues to break?” Shōyōu ducks his head in shame and embarrassment. To be fair, the incident with the sharks and the orca was one situation combined, and had been a simple misunderstanding. Simple in the way that war between them nearly came about, but the specifics are not important. The important issue is that it only happened once, and Shōyō has since learned to tread carefully around such aggressive breeds. 

Shimuzu shakes her head, “No, Sire. There has been no word on anything Shōyō may or may not have done.”

That should make him feel better, except that Daichi was soon to ruin everything for him.

The King turned his attention back to his children, staring each one down before settling onto Daichi. “What have you to say then?” He prompts, almost gruff. If they didn’t know better, the King would appear cold and angry all of the time. But anyone who knew him well knew that King Keishin was more a gentle rain than a typhoon. He was quick to frustration but just as quick to forgive. 

Daichi sends Shōyō an apologetic look and answers, “It would appear that Shōyō has made an unsanctioned trip to the surface.”

The King is graciously forgiving despite his gruff exterior. That didn’t mean that the King can’t get well and truly irate. Especially when one of his own people—one of  _ his own _ children—subvert serious laws set in place for a good reason. And traveling to the surface was dumb at its least, and treason at its worst. 

A veritable shade of darkness descended onto the room, the waves of fury radiating off the king like ghostly fingers. Shōyō’s brothers crept back in fear, and Hitoka darted behind a column seeking cover from the fallout. Kageyama abandoned him to follow after her, hiding beneath her hair. Even Shimuzu flinched, putting a little distance between herself and the king. However, unlike the others, Shōyō has nowhere to swim, rooted to the spot by his father’s angry glare, betrayed and singled out. So he treads water, nervously awaiting his fate.

“Shōyō, Daichi has never lied to me. I have never considered him petty or conniving, yet his accusation is incredible because I  _ know _ no one, not even my own flesh and blood, would be stupid enough to go to the surface without good reason.” King Keishin leans back on his throne, tall and rigid and imposing. “Is what your brother tells me true?”

Shōyō trembles before him, his eyes darting back and forth around the hall, red with pleading and unshed tears. But there’s no one to help him; he’s on his own.

Shōyō’s gills flutter rapidly as they filter oxygen at a pace almost too fast to process, the mermaid equivalent of panting. “Y-yes,” he whispers, avoiding his father’s disappointed gaze.

King Keishin sighs, “And I suppose you have an excellent reason for doing so?”

Of course, he does. What greater reason has he for disobeying—breaking law—than love? But will they see it that way, will his father accept his confession? 

Shōyō is anything if earnest to his core. Earnest and never one to back down, to be defeated by circumstance and fear. He may be reckless, but he’s never run from consequences, nor has he allowed himself to pity. That’s just not who he is.

As afraid as he is of his father’s anger and disappointment, as scared as he is of what his future now holds, he will stand his ground, so to speak, with his head high.

Shōyō finally looks King Keishin in the eye, raising his head and jutting his quivering chin in challenge. “I met and fell in love with a human.”

The throne room is silent for what feels like forever before it erupts in a cacophony of voices with comments ranging from outrage to fear.

“Are you serious. Shōyō?!” Daichi shouts, offended by such blasphemy.

“Oh, little brother, no,” Kōushi bemoans, fear and concern tainting his tone.

“W-wait-it’s not that bad! I mean-it’s l-love, but that’s g-good, right?” Hitoka defends, and Shōyō is so so grateful for her bravery.

As for the king, he stares hard at Shōyō with an indeterminable look in his eye. Shōyō trembles where he is, though determined not to look away.

“Enough,” King Keishin says, his voice barely rising above the noise but containing the kind of authority that quiets thunder.

“Too long have you been allowed your own way,” he says, not leaving any room for anyone to be confused about whom he’s talking to, “And I suppose the fault lies with me, since you are the last reminder of my beloved wife and your mother.”

Shōyō ducks his head, contrite. It was never his intention to besmirch her good name. 

“That changes, now, however.”

Shōyō snaps his head up, dread sinking like a ship in his stomach.

“From here on you will no longer be allowed off the castle grounds…” 

Shōyō balks, opening his mouth to defend himself, to plead his case, “Wait, Father, let me explain. He’s not someone to fear—“

The King holds up a hand, shutting him down, “And furthermore, you will be accompanied by a private security at all times until you can show some responsibility.”

“Father, please—“

“Tanaka! Noya! Get in here!” King Keishin shouts. He’s barely got the words out of his mouth before the two guards come tumbling into the throne room from where they were standing guard outside. As members of the elite guard that have the responsibility of keeping King Keishin safe, one might wonder how they managed their positions as ridiculous as they are. 

They make their way to the throne, hovering before it, Shōyō feeling trapped between them and King Keishin. They send Shōyō pitying smiles as they bow respectfully to their king. For once their personalities are muted; Tanaka reigning in his posturing and Noya his chaotic energy. 

“My idiot son has been making unsanctioned trips topside.” Shōyō visibly flinches, pinned beneath his father’s disappointed glare as he addresses his guards. “As of this moment, you are now his babysitters. You will see to his detail until further notice. He is to be escorted at all times and restricted to the castle grounds. Understood?”

They bow. “We will personally take care of it, your excellency,” Tanaka ensures.

“Yeah, we will be like remoras on a manta ray,” Noya adds.

“Oh that’s good,” Tanaka agrees with excitement, turning to his partner.

“Really? I thought so, too.”

“Really. Brilliant comparison, very relevant.”

“Thanks, Tanaka. You know, I’ve been talking to Asahi-“

“Will you two shut up and return my son to his rooms!” The King leans to his left, propped on his elbow as a large vein throbs near his temple, and he kneads his forehead as if trying to stave off a headache. “Children are a pain in the tail.”

“Father,” Shōyō pleads, determined to try one last time to make his case, “Please, just listen. Please.”

King Keishin glances up at him from under his head. Pity softens his brown eyes under the disappointment and exhaustion. “Shōyō, this is for your own good,” he says, the anger no longer sharpening his tone. “Humans are dangerous, barely civilized-“

“If you would only listen!” Shōyō cries, angry and frustrated that they would all rather jump to conclusions than listen to reason.

“No!” King Keishin shouts, shutting down the conversation with a slam of his fist on the armrest of his throne.

Shōyō’s face screws up as he tries not to cry. A hand settles lightly on his shoulder and he jerks away, turning toward the offender. Daichi floats next to him, hand still outstretched, his face a mask of sympathy and sorrow. 

“Shōyō, this is for the best,” he says, his voice quiet.

Shōyō looks around at all the faces staring at him, expressions of pity and heartache staring back at him from a dozen expressions. It’s too much. A sob escapes him, filling the quiet hall. He covers his face with his hands as he desperately tries to control the typhoon of emotion within him, his body trembling with the force of his struggle.

It’s not fair. He was so close.

A strange calm descends on him, slowing his respirations and allowing him to think clearer. He won't give up. He made a promise and he refuses to accept that this is it. He looks up at Daichi, who backs away under the fire that burns behind his eyes. 

“Not for me,” Shōyō replies to Daichi, his tone reminiscent of a looming storm. He takes a moment to gaze at each face, then Shōyō promptly exits the throne room leaving Tanaka and Noya to scramble to catch up.

_ Not for me _ , Shōyō thinks again.  _ I will come for you Kei. Somehow. _

****

**-8-**

****

The cavern is cool, hidden among the underwater mountains that border Atlantis. Deep inside its shadowy halls, a soft blue light emanates from the open maw of a dead giant clam where a large pearl rests. Within the pearl, like a human video feed, a young mermaid with hair like fire swims out of a throne room. His expression is a mix of determination and heartbreak.

Graceful fingers glide across the surface of the pearl, tracing the picture of the face within. 

“My my,” says a silky voice, “It seems like trouble is brewing in paradise.”

From beneath a cleft in the rock of the cavern wall, a face appears, blunt nose and small, dark eyes poking from its hiding spot.

“What are you planning now?” The eel asks though the question is more wary than curious.

A form passes through the shadow, delicate and sleek, tentacles curling and writhing as it climbs the wall of the cave to come to rest in a dark alcove.

“Nothing good, I bet,” says another eel, peeking around its companion from the same space.

“Oh come now, shouldn’t we do our duty to assist our lovely princeling?” The silky voice says from the alcove.

“You should stop, you’re not really good at seductive evil,” one eel says to the form, and a tentacle twitches in irritation.

“Just go and invite the prince here, will you?” The voice grumbles, no longer dripping with sweetness.

The eel snorts, turning to the other, “Makki, wanna make a bet on whether we survive this or not?”

“Oi! Just do your job, you poor excuse for a whale dong!”

Makki rolls his eyes. “What’s the point of a bet, Mattsun,” he says, ignoring the shadowed form and slithering out of the cleft. 

Heading down the corridor to the entrance, his companion follows. “Yeah, you’re right, Makki. We’re definitely gonna die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment, kudos, oh god please share! 
> 
> Next up: If you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll. Take a gulp, take a breath, and go ahead and sign the scroll...

**Author's Note:**

> Nest up: Tsuki is stressed and we meet a few more characters. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed it so far. Please let me know with comments and kudos. 
> 
> My original plan was to have this monster written out in it's entirety before posting so I could stick to a schedule, but that is not how I work, unfortunately. I will not promise consistent postings in decent time frames, I don't wanna be a liar. I have a total of three chapters and the prologue done and I would like to complete more so I can stay ahead. Anyway, I may post next week around the same time depending on what I can crank out. 
> 
> Until then...


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